Chapter 1: The Baptism of Pain Ascetic
So cold, freezing in the depth of void. Truth splitting apart and torn my murky illusion of humanity mere a delusion in unifying manifold of dying light.
Keep running, struggling, mumbling like madman in the blanket of event horizon for the whim of non-existent hope in eternal sea of darkness. There's a man, no there's other but who is that man lurking everywhere in endless Mirror of Conviction.
Fighting each other's ghost of existence with bitter damnation of incoherence, total nonsense! Fate is conviction of arrogance!
I'd already choose my own path of conviction, steel my resolve and hold my sanity until reach the Basilica of Malignance.
Determination cannot save my own skin but only to rekindle my irony of optimism is proven fatal supposition. Running again, maybe should I stop and jump into the bottomless void, to end this puny endeavors?
No! must not, my effort shall not in vain even at the moments of absolute uncertainty and terror. The faint of light illuminate the pathway but my heart beats erratically, the body feel frozen.
Torrent of emotion flow over the rein of consciousness, the terror of the moment took over when someone watching my every movement. Unable to confirm what kind of entity or creature and rather don't risk to be preyed by unknown pranksters or worse some cutthroats, waiting for oportunity to strike and cut me down into the pieces.
I panting so hard, barely catching up my breath almost rapture the lungs because of the unwarranted insanity.
The illumination of Tormented Path is getting stronger, running aimlessly towards eternity of bleakness.
Steal several glances in Mirror of Conviction, the mind convulsed in terror as instinct screams don't stare back. Realized, my skin is being peeled apart slowly. Bloody mess of flesh flowing like fountain soiling the sacred grotesqueries of divine's domain. The simple instruction of Indomitable Magistrates is to ignore everything gone miserably.
As sanity waning, slowly replaced by comical desperation and tormenting cruelty akin to thousands knife of pain that no one heard my agonizing scream even the gods.
The pain is truly unbearable but there's a point, my whole body is convulsing like dying and whining beaten dog. This is pain? Isn't better than comfort were unnecessary desire for worldly pursuit make a poor madman starve for pity? Where's the cry no one can hears nor to symphatize just petty discernment of self-repression.
Talking about meaningfulness of life, isn't very stupid to assume that everyone surrounds you have tinge of admiration or love in way gazing their eyes like beasts that wants the prey to be tear apart. The only truth is meaningful when the pain become love, it embraces the serenity of indifference. Nothing ashamed to embrace the fact, unless there is no arising disagreement to denigrate the one's madness without introspecting back their own madness in the rotting temple of falsehood.
What a pity! The gods are truly gone mad? Maybe, only fools know whether god exists or not. Even the blind ones can't distinguish the difference of water and fish in ocean.
"Promising thyself to gouge out the temple of foolishness and falsehood of the godless pedestal. I know, I will but my will is not mine."
Irk with displeasure, loathing the agony with warm embrace of crimson blasphemy that tainted the sacred pavement of Tormented Path further more with black trails of my own blood, reflects the enslavement by perversion of self-contradiction. Slowly walks towards the illuminating light, tired in running aimlessly. Until the qualitative changes in surroundings triggered fragmentation of reality, everything distort erratically and disintegrated in brutal efficiency of omnipotence. The new reality emerges under Philosopher of Omniscience's jurisdiction but still reconstructed in loathsome mockery of monotony.
After losing consciousness for hours, finally wake up and arrived in the Cathedral of Cosmos after days and months of experiencing pang of hunger, suffering, desperation and torment enough to kill yourself over petty monotony under pretense of austerity.
"Doesn't mean, I'm retarded just a foolish madman. Why don't embrace both if your head fed up with illusory enmity was fancying indignance towards you?"
After unnecessary reflection, standing nowhere at the same alien place. The Cathedral of Cosmos designed together by Clerics of Ineffable Domain, later it assigned the jurisdiction to Philosopher of Omniscience. The grand hall spanned with unknown dimension which cannot be measured by conventional standard of human intellect and everything here like distance, geometry and time are relative. Revered with majestic landscape of glorious scenery of cosmos were countless stars, galaxies and planets dancing each other in oblivion. The terror faded away despite being flayed fresh. Swayed by it's beauty, the beauty of perverted divinity with collective sorrow of celestial chorus singing toward cold palisade of existence brimming with bloodcurdling polyphony follows with accompanying screams from fanfare of the damned:
"Ah, would that the final hour[1]
Of my life might strike today!
From the depths of my heart I long
To be carried to my grave;
For I must not fear death
Long have I known him well
He leads me from wilderness
Into the promised land."
"Ah, how fleeting, ah how[2]
is the life of mankind!
As a mist suddenly appears
and then quickly disappears again,
behold! so is our life."
"As quickly as rushing water flies[3],
so the days of our lives hasten.
Time disappears, the hours rush, as drops suddenly separate, when everything plunges into the."
"Joy becomes sadness[4],
beauty falls like a blossom,
the greatest strength weakens,
happiness alters with time,
soon it is over for honor and fame,
learning and the writings of humans,
cancelled at last through the."
"To hang one's heart on earthly treasures is a deception of the foolish world.
How easily searing lusts appear, how the towering floods rush and rend, until everything crashes into heaps[5]."
"The highest glory and magnificence[6]
is enveloped at last by the night of death.
Who enthrones himself just like a god
eludes neither dust or ashes;
and when his last hour strikes, when he is borne to earth and the foundation of his loftiness crumbles, he will be completely."
"Ah, how fleeting, ah how insignificant[7]
are the doings of mankind!
Everything, everything that we see
must fall and pass away.
Whoever fears God will stand."
Isn't nostalgic? It reminds the beautiful flowers bedding the rotting verdants of concrete and steel of dying Earth. I don't even know, why i'm praising the decadence of these divine pantheon while the same assholes putting me in unimaginable filth and profanity of malevolence.
At least, these grand things is none of my concern.
The ominous aura covering the entire hall, the Indomitable Magistrate stands there stares at me with chilling indifference where it's eyes and body starks with incomprehensible concepts flowing like canopy in sky. Instinct screams, before the thoughts. My whole body froze in absolute terror and lose control that forcibly kneel in front of Indomitable Magistrate without even tinge of disobedience.
"I warned you my goodman, do you think i'm blind not to see everything through your scathing blasphemies? How contemptuous you are, don't bite the hands that feeds you, be a good and obedient dog for me. Strip your sense of emnity, forget animosity towards unbeknownst. Because if I say so, you will. Things are clear, my goodman?"
Indomitable Magistrate playfully retorts:
"What a craven you are? Do you think there's a savior coming for you? You know, my goodman. These wall are deaf on pleads of the damned like yours. By the way, i'm not a preacher to deliver a sermon of salvation but deliverance of insurance."
The Magistrate smirks at me, the smile weigh with sheer terrifying humiliation and my body still refuse to reclaim autonomy. Then Indomitable Magistrate uttered something sardonic denigration make my body tremble in brutal coldness of humor and said:
"Come on, what do you expect from me? Some generic reincarnation fantasy caretaker that gives you power cheat code, harem, kingdom and unbreakable sword?" The Indomitable Magistrates smile sinisterly, the cold impression put my sanity in verge of breaking.
I retorted in disgust "Pardon my dominus, none of these are my desire where my entire life never expose anything in any type of popular culture. I'm just a naive rural man".
Indomitable Magistrates oratorically sneers:
"Hehe, sorry for unprofessional outburst hehe, you know my goodman. I'm truly annoyed of those ambitious schemers for having same unoriginal and shallow fantasies. Daydreaming of these shitty heretical things to stand in pedestal of divine conundrum.
Fuck them all, I'd already tortured them for eternity inside event horizon of black hole, their pitiful damned screams only valuable as decorative celestial stereo subwoofer for symphonic accompaniment in this Cathedral hehe!
I'm hereby in authority mandated by Clerics of Ineffable Domain. Granted me inquisitive power to smote down those ungrateful filthy motherfuckers under my mercy who blasphemes the sacred order!"
My sanity rapidly declines in absolute terror of Indomitable Magistrate's oratory outburst tremors the entire Cathedral of Cosmos seems demonstrate it's horrifying power to sow subservience. Clutching for hope to spare my sanity but it seems the Magistrate deliver the final sermon in soft and gentle tone:
"Let's assume there's no demon lord here to fight because you're a demon lord itself fighting imaginary enmity, fetishizing torment under pretense of asceticism, and curating the perverted self-myth of martydom. Do you understand the point, my goodman."
Struggling to find answer, muttered only the language of the enslaved:
"Yes, my dominus."
"Before that, my goodman, I brought a wonderful gifts for you. The offer so tempting, refusal is futile."
Indomitable Magistrate summons a translucent box and automatically opened with violent force contains gun and blade, a symbol of man's primitivism. Ornamented with complex mathematical equations. The Gun etched with Boole's function and Blade etched with Bayes' axiom.
"You seems recognize the equations right, my goodman?", Indomitable Magistrate ask with curiosity. I answered with docile but dry response, "Yes, my dominus but not in academic way".
"The Clerics of Ineffable Domain are generous, my goodman. They are patron of knowledge and information freely flows here, comprehension dethroned by instinct and become overlord to rule as primal intellect of man. My simple piece of advice, my goodman. Don't indulge yourself on Dionysius' wine and might intoxicate in unknown, you know scary stuff!". The Magistrate smirks sardonically weighs with crushing oppression.
I attempt to pick one of the weapon but Indomitable Magistrates stops me from claiming it.
"Ah-ah-ah!, I'm unwrapping the final gift. This is the most tempting, unforgettable present." Indomitable Magistrate proceed to summon the final gift. Resembling like lithographic printing, beautifully disturbing. The viscera of body carefully reconstructed with extreme precision at femtometers the stretching microworld grander than cosmos itself. Fosters with banality of scientific theology. A naked woman appeared, the familiarity is inevitable. My consciousness is under assault of overwhelming information stream of the sanity-shattering semiotics."
My body convulsed in horror, not in suffocating guilt but shuddering mental pain of inescapable grief of past. Ignites the passion of madness. The woman I love, adore, cherish and bears my seed of child watch anything burns in ashes of war. Technology, the innocent monster adorn by cold intellect of human grotesqueries reduced my wife and child into pile of flesh like statistical sympathy desecrated by unholy armaments of man. War, the infectious cancer. Exhibiting same monotonous scripts of conquest, rape, pillaging, killings, destruction and political treachery like incurable malignance. Same temple of filth never change for thousands of years of the civilizational savagery. I'm standing in ruin, sitting over throne of ashes and fire besides of my child and wife clinging to their remaining flesh as my final deliverance of funeral together in grave. Waiting for salvation of death and...
The story of my past is mere sypnosis, an irrelevant case file had no importance in pompousness of insignifance. Silence is only matter of affection like clinical detachment, dissecting the ghost of intangible abyss of thoughts.
Indomitable Magistrate roared in laughter resonates the chambers inside Cathedral of Cosmos by recycling despair into playable toys.
"Haha, I don't believe this idle banter of romantic reunion turns into very cheesy anthology akin to reality TV shows, huh? Hmm... Ah! Those Kardashians isn't? What a shame those narcissistic motherfuckers is already commissioned products into crimson canvas as hot selling products by Archduke of Morality and other suzerains. A masterpiece carefully mangled by blade stroke brush, screams like fucking banshee just like being possessed by unholy spirit of Yoko Ono piteously deny the gods are real which incurable by torment to make them believe in holy spirit of non-existence. Unless, you're atheist, theist, communist, capitalist either venerable masturbator like Diogenes the Dog or whatever -isms. Pay the tax, my goodman."
The ominous atmosphere covered the Cathedral of Cosmos in pitched black canopy, Indomitable Magistrate is no longer jolly. Smirks in predatory way of conveyance, very unnatural and efficiently cruel. And asks me in ambiguous expression:
"Do you still love her, despite she being reduced to ash? Does unrequited love from damnable pile of flesh is truly conquers all despite being you are being damned by indifference of war? Look at her, my goodman. Your nothing different from her, chained to the same obsolescence of romantic idealism. How sweet, my goodman? A damnable bullshit soap opera-like script."
The vile mockery degrades my wife's entire existence by reducing her dignity into mere data, crashing me down to the heaps of helplessness. Teetering in rage of indifference. I'm too powerless, my hands tied to infeasibility. The power is too great, very grand, make appear insignificants themselves like ignorant ants in barren desert.
Uncontrollable rage surge in my stream of consciousness, the anomalous semiotics overrides the mental faculty erode functions to inversion. The violence as primitive language takeover instinct and rationality. Now the violence redefined as primal language of sterilization. Indomitable Magistrate's smile stretching in Mobius strip of infinite terror. Murderous intent howls, as Indomitable Magistrate satisfied on it's adjustment to my state of mental reconditioning reflects autonomy dismantled temporarily.
Indomitable Magistrate hands me the Bayesian Blade, as metronome of Hall flickers. The woman I love previously, shuddered in terror, tears flowing out but there's no whine nor plead can be heard because the walls are deaf while the cold cantata sings in unison of indifference, commemorate the initiation of Crimson Communion. Scribing my own canon, the birth of Liturgy of the Flayed. Forging my own myth as Madman Prophet, stands not in pedestal of divine conundrum but to become Messiah and build the temple to torment the damned.
Assessing her with cold blooded calculation like frenzied predator. The prey runs frantically in regressing vestiges of spacetime of Hall, the escape is impossible no matter how you perceived feasibility. Terror consumed her energy, calories waste too much barely standing on her own feet. Her leg collapse, refuse to listen with immutable numbness.
Approaching her slowly, crouched down not to embrace her in bodily pleasure but share the warmth of pain, the love never tainted with lust. Her eyes pleading for mercy of death. Blade delicately sunk in her ice cold skin not for violent respite or self-pleasure but to materialize the apotheosis of truth that elevates pain into prestige of transcendence. Voiceless scream of torment resonate in her very depth of soul, clinging in the hope the deliverance of salvation will come. Absolute death of hope is evident, no salvation come for us, only ecstatic despair. The Liturgy of the Flayed is only absolute truth. Strip her skin of disillusionment like parchment scribing an empty revelation, let it flow crimson in River of Indignance. Shall be blessed with bounty harvest in fertile soil of wasteland.
Exposing her fleshy viscera of every being to gouge out the temple of falsehood, pain as refuge of sacrament to cleanse the filth of wordly deception. Perfectly carved her in geometric sacredness of divine order, crimson blooms aligns in magnanimous replication of Haemanthus flower. Her despair replaced by ecstasy, she look at me with warm affection tears flowing blood. Placing her bloody hands on my face, muttering her final words in fragmented hoarse:
"I exist, I regret, I suffer, my hatred is eternal.
"Oh, how tragic? Fragility of temporary is frustrating isn't my goodman? Her cries, pleads and final words are nothing but noise particle in uncaring cathedral of illusions.
You know my goodman, crying over broken toy is very embarrassing then you're not a child anymore to do that. Do you understand the point, my goodman?."
I plunged the Bayesian Blade against Indomitable Magistrate and sunked to the flowing canopy of semiotics. But the attack rendered useless and futile, disarmed my schemes in cold efficiency of statistical elusiveness. Magistrate retorts in same embodiment of mercurial apathy.
"How bold, daring and conspiratorial, my goodman. I forgive you from now, seriously you're an grown ass man still offended by childish jokes. Anyway, enjoy the mourn of your beloved skinless wife because I will perform the final hymn of the sacred playwright." Music please!"
As Indomitable Magistrate roared in order. The music start playing, tremors the entire Cathedral of Cosmos like crowded ballroom. Celestial bodies dancing with apathetic rhythm. Symphonic noises of the damned performing the accompanying part of bloodcurdling and chaotic polyphony. Indomitable Magistrate stands in center of Cathedral, flicks out translucent violin implied it's properties transcend human understanding. Playing the transcendent masterpiece from J.S. Bach's Chaconne in D minor, BWV 1004 with sheer grandiosity and inhuman passion devoid concept of human emotion tremors celestial bodies in disarray. Adorned by reverend affection of cosmos. As the final elegy of pompous shallowness.
Tragedy aspires creative malice.
Decadence inspires awe beneath the cruel pavement of mystery.
Magnificence vilifies hollowness of virtue.
Faith exemplifies unchartered commitment to emptiness.
Heaven and Hell is empty, only cacophony of eternal repression.
[1] From J.S. Bach's Ach, dass nicht die letzte Stunde, BWV 439
[2] From J.S. Bach's Ach wie flüchtig, ach wie nichtig, BWV 26
[3] From J.S. Bach's Ach wie flüchtig, ach wie nichtig, BWV 26
[4] From J.S. Bach's Ach wie flüchtig, ach wie nichtig, BWV 26
[5] From J.S. Bach's Ach wie flüchtig, ach wie nichtig, BWV 26
[6] From J.S. Bach's Ach wie flüchtig, ach wie nichtig, BWV 26
[7] From J.S. Bach's Ach wie flüchtig, ach wie nichtig, BWV 26