Wednesday, January 15, 2014

The Darkness From Within



People are like stained glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is light from within- Elizabeth Kubler Ross

***

Men of greater discernment have long accepted that there is no sharp distinction between what is factual and what is borne off one's imagination. These sages of old were of the belief that all things appear as they do only by virtue of the delicately built mental portal through which we are made conscious of them. But others, who'd been begotten devoid of imagination and wits, often condemn such reasoning as the flashes of supersight which penetrates the common veil of an understanding gained from a weighted experience.

And it is because of such myopic condemnations, a burning rage urges me to speak. Even though recounting the mysterious circumstance which have befallen me, will univocally bring down the atrocious wrath of the one who now lords over me, but speak I will. Speak I must, for it is an unfortunate fact that we as minute entities, are too limited in our mental vision to weigh with patience and intellect, certain isolated but reoccurring phenomena that is felt from a relative distance by the very few with high cognitive sensitivity.

My experience which has me sealed within the very core of this ghost town cannot be simply chalked down as a mere case of misfortune, but of something more sinister. More than a century after its occurrence, many have dared to label it as nothing but a mere case of a once productive mining town, dwindling into the abyss; a misconception which eats through to the very fiber of my damned soul because it is an audacious lie created to completely enshroud the evil mechanism at work.

*

My story begins from my birth place in Norfolk, Connecticut, where I'd been known as the fair Miss Madrilène Thelma Bramble. I who was privileged to have hailed from a home of affluence, and lived beyond the necessity of a mundane life, was from birth cursed with the gift of clairvoyance. Because of this, I spent most of my time with books and away from social contacts. My books helped with the loneliness, but I do not think it helped fill the void within me. They helped keep my anxiety in check, but anxiety sadly, wasnt even one of my greatest misgivings.

My greatest misgivings were the sultry voices that whispered to me in the dark, the unbridled flashes of the unknown I glimpsed, and the unnerving alien contact with the sinister. It was for this reason, and more of the fact that my Pa made his wealth from mining, that we moved to Aurora, a relatively peaceful town in Nevada where rich mines had been recently discovered. But Lord knew I'd wanted to remain in Norfolk just to be close to my late Ma's memory and final resting place. Lord knew that when I'd made my desires clear to Pa, he ludicrously would have none of it.

We arrived in Aurora on March of 1863, and I quickly became acquainted with some of the people. Amongst these people were a Master Turtleneck and Ms. Washington, two elderly people of great wisdom and patience whom I'd quickly befriended. Master Turtleneck had been a big burly man with a comical face, while Ms. Washington had been a wizened and gentle old soul who couldnt hurt a fly. They were both devout Christians who read the scriptures to me every evening, a luxury I'd no longer been afforded since my dear Ma passed on. 

Master Turtleneck had been a travelling merchant who collected antiques. Like us, hed just recently moved to Aurora to open a shop and live out the rest of his days in peace. Ms. Washington on the other hand, was a widow who'd lived all her life in Aurora and had been a seamstress in her days. I spent a lot of time in the house they shared together, listening to their amazing stories and playful bants. They'd been good people who'd shown and taught a thirteen year old girl how to live, and feel at peace with her demons. They'd been good people who saw only the positives in people.


But everything changed in November. It wasnt like an abrupt change; it was more like a building momentum, like an accumulative result of pent up bile. It was as though some arcane force had influenced the people by tainting their hearts with greed, lust, pride, sloth, wrath, envy and gluttony till it festered into something unimaginable. All these I saw as I peered deep into the darkness wondering, fearing and dreaming nightmares no mortal ever dared to dream. All these I perceived even when winter lent Aurora an even much grander sight to the common eye.


I must say that all these hadnt stopped the town from immersing themselves into the festive mood, for by the end of November the whole town had already been covered in the red and green colors of Yuletide, while mistletoes shrubs had already been cut and carried into their homes to decorate their Christmas trees. Conditions soon deteriorated as alcohol began to flow in abundance, while people began to eat less and thus shrunk into a caricature of their previous self. In the morning, they'd all then go about their business with haunted faces, and silent appeals in their eyes as the rigors of their hangover gripped them mercilessly.


Tempers began to flare and brawls which sometimes led to death soon broke out in the town. Prostitution rose and public debauchery became the order of the day. It was as though the darkness within the people's soul had been furiously unleashed. It was as though they'd been liberated from the shackles of sensibility and humanity, a sentiment Master Turtleneck and Ms. Washington also shared, but were helpless to do anything about as a great storm of apprehension brew over Aurora.


 When the month of December came upon us, the town began to emit an evil aura. It began to diffuse a malignant stench of corruption which originated from the mines. Soon nightly specters only I could see began slipping into peoples home. I was terrified and soon, sleep deserted me as I found no source of solace. When I tried to reach out to Pa, I was rebuffed, which was no surprise, for it'd been obvious that he was already enchanted by whatever had bewitched the town.

Christmas Eve soon came upon us, and I remember how Aurora had been completely blanketed in snow. It had been a gay day and I remember waking up to the smell of roasted chicken in the air. I remember being so happy because the evil stench of corruption that had been enveloping Aurora had been replaced with the glorious smell of Christmas. Most importantly, I remember how privileged I'd felt to be selected as part of the children elves for Santa.

Later that morning, I and Pa joined the whole town for the Christmas carol in the town hall. Once we were all seated, the service began with the hymns of praises sung in honor of baby Jesus. When the hymns ended, Master Turtleneck who was clad in his Santa outfit read some verses from the bible before we all dispersed into the streets to celebrate. It'd been a perfect day which reflected exactly how Aurora could have been. It'd been a day that would have been forever ingrained in our memories.

It was midnight before I went home tired. I'd been so tired that the second I hit the bed, I fell asleep and soon began dreaming of Christmas trees, fireworks, Santa Claus and elves. For the first time in a while, I'd slept peacefully, but it was short lived because sometime later, my eyes suddenly flew open in terror. The evil had returned, only this time, more repugnant and suffocating. Gasping for breath, I stumbled out of bed. Terrified out of my wits, I slowly peered out of my window, and what I beheld seized my heartbeat; what I witnessed derailed my faculties.

Hordes of the flittering specters hovered in the skies, while others swamped into every house in Aurora. From each house, heart wrenching screams of the inhabitants were heard as their unseen assailants tore at their life force. After their screams abated, a great bleakness which glowed hellish red enveloped the houses, before a great tremor shook the whole town. Then I remembered Master Turtleneck and Ms. Washington, and the concern I felt for them was beyond measure, so I rushed towards their house.

When I entered their house, I was met by the most unnatural of sights. Master Turtleneck who was suspended in midair, swelled and contracted as a whirling black mass of specters swarmed in, out and through his person, while Ms. Washington charred remains lay stiffly on the floor. When I drew closer to Ms. Washington and saw her terrifying and contorted features, a tiny whimper escaped me. When I turned back to Master Turtleneck, and saw the horror that was now his face, the last vestige of my sanity shredded right before my very eyes.

My last sight as I collapsed in a faint was of the dark specters gleefully gathering around me.


*


I survived that horrible night and was thus doomed forever to a nonexistent existence. When I woke up the next morning, I found myself in pains deep in the mines of Aurora. When I crawled into the light and realized what I'd become, I howled like a wounded soul. Weeping profusely, I hobbled around Aurora and saw that all the inhabitants were slowly fading away into nothingness. When I could take it no more, I tried to leave the town, but realized that an invincible barrier kept me forever a prisoner within its boundaries.


Many decades has passed since that dreadful night; many enough decades for me to have pieced together some of the mysteries of that night. I'd dedicated all my time to understanding that phenomena, and understand I will for there are by far more countless decades before me. Far too much I must say, for I am now neither here nor there, neither living nor dead or undead. I'm now a floating mass in a timeless vacuum of putridity; I'm definitely nameless, completely worthless and unquestionably unredeemable.

My years of searching brought me to the real significance behind the day all hell was let loose in Aurora. A significance which led me to the fact that no one has conclusively been able to say when Christ was conceived. Arguments have been made, but all agree that it is unlikely that he was born in December, since the bible records shepherds tending their sheep in the fields, a feat which is impossible on a cold Judean night. So I wondered what exactly we've been celebrating all those years, and I found answers within the history of some pagan celebrations, and its integration with Christianity.

*


I'll begin in ancient Rome, where there existed a winter solstice holiday called Saturnalia. This holiday honored Saturn their god of Agriculture by celebrating a week long period of lawlessness, intoxication, singing, rape and other sexual shenanigans. The festival began when the authorities chose "an enemy of the people" to represent the "Lord of Misrule." Each community then selects a victim whom they force to indulge in food and other physical pleasures throughout the week. On the last day, they'd brutally murder this person, believing they were destroying the forces of darkness.

In northern Europe, there existed a winter solstice celebration known as Yule. Yule was symbolic of the Sun god, Mithras being born. During the celebration, it was customary to light a candle to encourage Mithras, and the sun to reappear the following year. The word Yule itself means wheel, the wheel being a pagan symbol for the sun. Furthermore, mistletoe was considered a sacred plant, so live evergreen trees were often brought into homes during the harsh winters as a reminder to inhabitants that soon their crops would grow again.


It was then recorded that in the 4th century, Christianity imported the Saturnalia festival hoping to take the pagan masses in with it. The Christian leaders succeeded in converting to Christianity, large numbers of pagans by promising them that they could continue to celebrate the Saturnalia as Christians, but the problem was that there was nothing intrinsically Christian about Saturnalia. To remedy this, these Christian leaders named Saturnalia's concluding day, December 25th, to be Christ's birth day.

Christians had little success refining Saturnalia, because in return for ensuring massive observance of the anniversary of their Savior's birth by assigning it to this resonant date, the Church for its part tacitly agreed to allow the holiday to be celebrated more or less the way it had always been. Therein lay the masterstroke of the pagan gods, for as long as Saturnalia and Yule are celebrated under the guise of the birth of Christ by millions all over the world, all honors and ululation of praises would still be bestowed upon the pagan gods rather than Christ, thus increasing their influence in the world tremendously.

And as their influence grew, so did their insatiable appetite. So for the purpose of sating their appetite, a devious means which involved sending a reaper to harvest celebrating Christian souls by sacking isolated and unsuspecting towns was devised. This reaper, who has openly dwelt amongst us devoid of suspicion, is none other than the celebrated Santa Claus whose legend proclaimed that elves did his biddings and he soars on a sleigh ridden by reindeers, bearing gifts for children. But all that is false, for he harvest lives not bear gifts, and the obscenities which drag his sleigh are in no way similar to reindeers, just as his hordes of horrendous faithful, are not akin to elves in any way.

*


For years I wondered how I'd been so blind not to have seen the evil that was right before my eyes. For years I have been unable to stand to look at the one who now lorded over me, without feeling a great sense of deep betrayal. Every time, I wondered how even with my clairvoyance, Id been so blind not have realized that Master Turtleneck had been the unsung reaper for the pagan gods. Every minute, I wondered why he'd chosen me his friend, to be one of his malevolent faithful. Now all I am is a mere shepherd to the specters that had sucked all the vitality from Aurora; now I am nothing.
                                                       


After all these years, I've come to realize that we are all governed by the darkness from within; a darkness that can never be subdued or tamed, but rather nurtured and understood. I'm now part of the darkness where the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel is nonexistent. I'm now a part of that darkness that will always prevail over light. I'm part of that darkness that will accord light the little and insignificant victories. I'm part of the darkness, for light is the root of all evils, and therefore precedes and begets darkness. I'm part of the darkness because light cannot exist without darkness, likewise darkness without light, for they are both one and the very same.


Heed for the darkness from within is real and potent.
 Be terrified for there is a dark and repugnant storm brewing inside us all.