A warning of the mis-use of magick

a warning against the mis-use of
magick
and its consequences

by

paul f. savage

the introduction

I spoke with him for several hours, during which period he revealed to
me his most inner thoughts, and the demons which taunt and torture him
yet. I do not believe that he had long to live, and the remainder of
his terrestrial existence is destined to be so miserable, so pitiful,
that I feel an infinite sorrow for him. Yet, he brought about his own
destiny, he destroyed himself, and for that, he must take the ultimate
blame; I do not envy him his death, for his afterlife will be filled
with the most demonic horror, that neither he nor I can bring ourselves
to contemplate it. Death is meant to be joyful, a renaissance of the
soul, but his soul is blackened beyond repair, despair can only follow.
I feel sorry for him, but there's nothing I can do for the poor fellow.
What follows are his words; I am the mere scribe. There are many
horrors awaiting you within this slender tome, but I beg you, do not
derive perverse pleasure from the following - it is a warning, not a
titillation. Amen.

paul f. savage
aberdeen
january 1997

the story

I used to be a skinhead, right, smashing up churches, shitting on grave
stones and all that. Yeh, I used to paint them, too; painted inverted
crosses, you know, and upside-down pentagrams too, yeh. I mean, it
weren't just me doing it, there was a gang of us, you know - it was a
bit of fun; we thought we'd just put the shitters up some old 'ligious
folk, see? I mean, how the fuck was I meant to know it was all true?
Just a bit of fun, 'cept it all went wrong, you see, it all went so
fucking wrong. [breaks down in tears, and sobs for maybe two minutes]
Sorry, man. Anyway, so we would hang around in the evenings, getting
pissed or stoned or whatever, and a few of us would be tripping, yeh,
just like normal skins yeh, and then we'd go off to a graveyard and
smash it up good and proper, rebelling against the shit system, and the
oppression we all felt - the pressure of society, none of us can handle
it, can we? I mean, life's shit, is it? Life ain't worth living, but
now, it's all I got. I'm so fucking frightened of dying, now, I...He's
waiting for me, man, he's got His claws all fucking sharpened to rip my
body apart so He can get at my soul, He's got His legions just sitting
tight, waiting for me to snuff it, and then they're gonna crucify me,
you know. I sit in my fucking room, lights of and all, and I can feel
His presence, just waiting; I can even fucking feel His evil fucking
smile, sitting there, across from me, with blazing eyes; I can see
them, two fires burning into me, and I can feel the heat; oh, the
fucking heat man, I can't wear no clothes 'cause I'd burn up, I'd just
explode - spontaneous combustion, they'd say - I read up on it - all
those people who just go up in smoke, that's the reason, you know, and
that's what's gonna happen to me, man - I'm gonna be sitting on my bed,
terrified, and the Whoosh, I'll be gone, and His demons are gonna rip
into my flesh like wild cats or something, they're just tear into me,
and I can feel the pain already...what can I do, man, I'm so fucking
scared, it was all a bit of fun, that was all, with my mates. What gets
me, is that they're all fucking fine - they don't see the demons, they
don't feel there dirty claws on the shoulders everywhere they go. They
walk about like nothing ever fucking happened; well it fucking did. I'm
the one in the shit, stewing inside, sweating all the time, the doctors
say I've lost five stone, and I mean, look at me, I'm just a fucking
skeleton, skin and bones like they say; skin and fucking bones. It's
almost time, too, I can feel my day approaching, it won't be long now.
Look at me, try to imagine what's about to happen to me - I'm doomed,
man, doomed to live in Hell for fucking ever, and there's no escape.
Graves, I never want to see another fucking grave again - why won't God
swoop down and rescue me? 'Cause he's fucking impotent, that's why - he
can't do shit against the forces of evil. I discovered this, man, in
one of my nightmares, except I was awake at the time. Some evil Voodoo
spirit came down to me right, I think his name was Baron Samadi, you
know the...what did he call himself again...the Divine Gravedigger, the
spirit who visits you just before you die - well, that was him, man;
his face was just some rotted skull with blazing eyes, and those eyes,
they never shut once all the time he visited me - anyway, he told me,
man, he told me. Looked at me so evil, and said "Your perception of God
is an impotent image; the only controller of your destiny is you; your
God can only sit back and watch as you destroy your life and blacken
your soul - you have doomed yourself." That's exactly what he said, I
know - I'll never forget it, it's like he put his words in a fire, and
pressed them into my mind. He sang, as well, 'cept it wasn't like any
normal singing, it chilled my blood, man, some wordless chant over and
over again, like nothing you ever heard; like nothing you ever want to
hear. So, I know I'm on the edge of dying, and there's no saving me; I
fucked up, man, just dabbled, didn't even believe in it neither, but it
happened. The first time I ever saw a demon was about six months ago;
it was a Friday night, and me and my mates were pissed by about nine
o'clock; we bought some whisky, 'cause my mate'd won twenty quid on one
of them scratch cards, so we thought we'd go posh, yeh, so we bought a
bit of whikkers; so, as I said, by about nine we were all pretty
fucked. I had about a score of rocky as well, so we sat around the
park, skinning up, doing blow-backs and all that - fuck, I wish we
never fucking went to that old churchyard, man - I wish I could just
back there now, be with my mates, smoking pot, getting pissed, having a
laugh and all that, but I fucked it, man, I fucking fucked it. We
decided to go to that old churchyard, anyway - it looked like one of
them typical old 'yards, yeh, with the creaky trees, and the grassy
graves, big stained windows, and all that - totally full of fucking
atmosphere. The priest's a fucking queer, anyway; you know, so we
thought we'd give him a bit of shitter, so we headed over there, and we
got out the old red paint, a bit of colour to the place, you know. I
painted, what was it?, S A T A N L I V E S or something shit like that
over one of the graves, then had a wank over it. After that, it all
started to fuck up. One of the girls stripped off, and lay on one of
those horizontal gravestones - like a Black Mass, you see, yeh? So we
thought it would be a laugh if we did one, you know. I don't know why,
but we was all so fucked that it seemed dead funny at the time. So
we...THERE! Look behind you, I can see Him there, can't you see Him
laugh, man; he's getting ready - any minute now He's gonna get me. How
the fuck can I ignore Him, can't you see Him - no, of course you can't,
but He's there, right behind you, just waiting for me; see, it's
getting so fucking hot in her now, I gotta take my fucking clothes
off...right, I'll go on, then...where was I? That's right, so she's
lying naked on the mossy gravestone, wriggling about and inviting us,
so we started feeling her up and all that, getting pretty stiff, and
saying things like, "Oh mighty Satan, come down and fill us with your
power," things like that. Anyway, I was poking her, yeh, and she was
getting pretty, excited, you know, like her cunt was wet and all that,
so I went down on her, and the rest of my mates were feeling her tits
and all that, some of them were having a good wank. So, we were all
pretty excited and all that, and she came - but she came black. All
this black stuff came oozing out her cunt, and she screamed - that
black stuff wasn't like some normal liquid, it was thick, and the smell
was so disgusting that I started puking over her. My mates were saying
"what have you done to her?" You know, she was just lying on the grave,
screaming her head off, and her cunt started burning up right in front
of me; her screams were so painful, she hollered on and on, even when
her vocal chords gave up, after that, it sounded like she was gagging
or something; well, my mates got pretty scared, you know, and got the
fuck out of there; I should've too, but I couldn't move, you know it
was like my legs'd been rooted to the ground. Eventually, the black
stuff dries up and stops, but I could see something moving about inside
her, like it was a baby or something, pushing out against her skin,
writhing and all that; I could see that it was moving towards her cunt,
pushing through her - by this time, she had stopped screaming, stopped
moving - I didn't know if she was dead yet, but by the time He came out
of her she was, poor fucking bitch. He pushed and pushed, and I saw one
of his twisted claws creep out of her cunt, and then push himself out,
splitting her apart. I couldn't take my eyes of Her cunt, it was like I
was in a trance or something. When he finally came out all the way, he
was dripping with her blood and innards, her guts were twisted around
His cock - He had a fucking huge hard-on, and He grinned at me, just
the same way He's grinning at me now, 'cept of course you can't see
Him, but He's there. He looked at me, and had an insane look on His
face. When He breathed, He made this sort of choking sound, and I
looked at Him, scared shitless, I mean actually shitless, I could feel
it mixing with my piss all the way down my leg. I felt so fucking
alone. He started speaking: "I am the Lord Of The Earth, and you have
summoned me, you have given over your Lustful soul to me, and when you
die, I will take you into the bowels of my world, and feast upon your
for all eternity." I stood there speechless, taking in every word. He
said that there would always be a demon sitting on my left shoulder,
taunting me and mentally torturing me until I killed myself, and then
He would claim me as His, and rip me apart. Then He disappeared,
leaving a disgusting smell behind. I fell to my knees. I must have lost
it, then, because the next thing I knew, I was lying naked in a heap in
a pig cell, with dry shit covering my legs. So they done me for murder,
saying that I murdered her, 'cept I didn't did I, He did. And now He's
waiting there for me, I can smell Him and His demons. There's a demon
sitting on my shoulder right now, digging in me, and saying evil
things, saying I killed her, but I didn't, I didn't. But, of course, it
don't matter anymore - nothing matters, 'cept the fact that I'm gonna
die. And when I die, they're gonna reach in, and pull my bones out, and
then feast on my flesh. Then He's gonna come, the Lord Of The
Earth.
He'll claim my soul, and take me to Hell. I'm scared, I don't wanna
die.

the end

So, there you have it - a warning against frivolously indulging in
Spirits over which you have no control; Spirits can never be
controlled, for magic is an unpredictable art; it is not an evil art,
but evil can be incorporated and summoned by its powers. So, before you
begin dabbling in the occult, stop, buy a book, and learn about what it
is you're about to create. Be Careful, Be Aware; it is Your Will - The
word of the Law is thelema.