Well that’s torn it. I done that dastardly thing again and she did catch me red handed whilst at it. Red handed being something of an understatement at that. Hell there was blood all over such that there was no denying what I done. There’ll be no keeping hidden secrets or disguising of the truth this time.
There was an awful lot of blood.
She seen all.
The gory ruin and the open wounds and all.
And it did break her heart so cruelly that she did weep and cry most bitter and heartbroken. And so did I when I seen what my dastardly actions done to her.
There was much wailing and screaming and crying ‘why oh why?’
But what’s more my one and only promised one saw more than just the red handedness of it. See she walked in on me unsuspected and unexpected while I was still lost within my trance. Lost in that stupor of existing in between the mortal realm and the elsewhere world of otherwise.
The hexes I had scribbled and writ all over were there for her to see. She read every last word and her heart did break and her eyes did weep.
And the blade of unholy sweet communion was still clutched in my gory guilty hand.
The sacrifice still laying upon my altar….
I fear I may have done for us for good and all this time. I fear I may have gone just a little teensy weensy bit too far.
This may mean our unmaking and our end.
See, I have a gift for communing with otherworldly things. Entities which which the faint of heart might whisper of in fear. Referring to those others in lurid terms as demons or devils or some such. My oldest and most faithful companions is what they are to me. Though I don’t know if I’d go so far as them call them my friends.
And I do get so carried away at play with them devil demon things. Affairs can get a little out of hand from time to time and now….
She can’t face me right now. Her heart is broke in two.
She’s sitting on her own just quietly weeping to herself at what she seen. Oh for the bitter cruel pain and suffering my deviltry does put her through. I weep too with the agony of it, though I take care to suppress my sobs. No need to torment her further with my own grief.
My dread sorrow over what I myself while elsewhere and otherwise have done.
To let her hear those sobs and whines would be unkind. So I keep them to myself.
I’ll do my screaming and crying and wailing when there’s no one around to bear witness.
Guess I’ll just go about the business of cleaning up the mess. The sheets are too extensively stained to wash clean, so I’ll take them out to the wilderness and burn em. That should please them other ones, such actions as burning blood do please them after their fashion of knowing pleasure.
I’ll bundle up all the….evidence….
I’ll make that disappear for good and all as well.
And I guess I’ll just have to cease my communions with those others for a while. I will strive and try to keep myself to myself and not cause no more suffering on my account. The cost on her is just too high. She don’t deserve to know my wicked ways and deviltry nor see the gory evidence of it.
And that offering of burnt blood and buried evidence I will offer to those elsewhere things as a beseeching prayer. Oh please oh please oh sweet Satan and loving Lucifer of the borne light.
Oh I beg thee Beelzebub, Belial and Behemoth too.
Oh Abaddon and Adramalech and Asmodeus as well.
Oh Baphomet and Beherit too.
Oh Hekataea and Hella help me.
Oh Lilith love me won’t you?
Oh all of you called legion. Won’t you use your ways and wiles to keep us bound together. Rescue us from what I done.
Please don’t let my love of you and all them others be the final end for me and mine. Please seep just a little more courage and fortitude into her heart for to stay with me. For the losing of her might very well mean my final undoing and the very end and final cut for me.
She, my promised one don’t deserve to suffer as she does. For witnessing my bloody ways and wickedness and deviltry. She don’t deserve to suffer so for loving such a one as me.
And once my prayer and burnt and buried offering is made, I must strive to remain in the here and now. To go running wild and free and letting my spirit soar so high, comes at a price so high I don’t know that I can pay.
I will try.
I hope them others can forgive me. But I have all this blood to wash away and broke hearts to sew and stitch back together again.
It may take some time.
But just between you and me and no one else, I’m keeping that blade of unholy sweet communion.
I’ll hide that away somewhere safe and unseen.
But for now, there’s tears to be shed, pain to be borne and work to be done.
And don’t ask me who wrote this. If you don’t know already, then you don’t want to know.