Demon Possession: Firsthand Account from a Pure Thal
|August 29, 2012||Posted by Koanic under Christianity, Learning Koanic Soul, Neanderthal Pride|
There are certain maxims in MMA. Chin down, hands up – don’t get knocked out. Don’t leave an arm hanging out for the armbar. Don’t leave your head in the guard for a triangle.
Particularly with submissions, sometimes a fighter deliberately breaks a rule because he’s looking for a way out. The pain gets to be too much, and he gives up.
In a similar way, there are rules to follow to avoid getting ridden by a demon. Stuff that will increase your probability of pwnage:
- anything occult
- dark energetics
- being an oppressed and desperate omega
- mind-warping drugs
- persistent and deliberately evil actions against your conscience
Below is a true tale of demon possession from an omega TT.
My goals in publishing this story are
- People exercise caution when playing with dark energetics, as part of Koanic Soul type deliberate practice
- Those sufferers groping blindly, who see the darkness as a way out, realize that the price is too high
Your mind and soul are your fortress. Even if the world’s assault seems overwhelming, things can always get worse when you invite something else in to fight for you.
There’s no shame in being beaten. All it means is you haven’t found the right tricks of mental resistance yet. You omega Thals are fighting a fight you were never designed for, but that doesn’t mean you can’t turn it around. Don’t quit.
* Chapter 1
Below is one of the reasons I’m glad to be me and am quite content to be considered odd by others. I feel I live a much fuller life because of it, with the major consequence being that I can experience ordinary things in extraordinary ways. You’ll see what I mean if you read on.
I rarely walk down a hallway, I usually fly, pace, prowl, stalk, shadow, or even crawl down them. Granted, it looks like I’m merely walking casually down the hallway with a little smile on my face, with only an occasional hint that something very different is going on inside my head. If you were to catch me by surprise or perhaps were able to see me without me seeing you, you might see me slowly flex my hands or perhaps see an out of place expression pass across my face. But even these hints do little to illuminate what is going on inside my mind.
Little do others know that what I see when I’m going down the hallway is my translucent angelic wings either spread out, causing me to glide as they pass through walls, or they might be wrapped tightly around me protecting me from harm. Either way, I know my secret is safe because I can make them invisible and ethereal to those who can only see the material.
On another occasion, when I’m on a hunt of some sort, I may watch with pleasure as my fingers elongate and thicken until they become large deadly claws with razor sharp edges ready to rend and tear on my command. It takes but a thought and a moment for the transformation to take place if I need it to. Once again my secret is safe.
Sometimes though, I feel a need for total annihilation of my surroundings and with my mind I summon forth fire that spontaneously combusts all that it comes in contact with. My enemies flee in horror and despair only to be consumed into ash and their cries silenced forever.
Those and other things flow through my mind as I make my through the twists, turns, and straight-aways of life. In a way I pity those condemned to simply walk from one place to another, having only the dull material world for companionship.
The funny part is that I can pass for normal when I want to. ;}
* Chapter 2
This is related to a previous blog called “Hallways” and represents a shift in perspective I’ve recently had. These thoughts were really swarming around my brain about a month ago, but I still felt the desire to get them down. So here we go.
Per my usual habit I smile contentedly as I glide down my favorite long hallway at work. I extend a hand before my eyes and I imagine the enemies I will destroy as my arm starts to blur and distort, transforming into something more claw-like with sharp edges in every conceivable place.
My smile becomes fixed as I start to sense something wrong and a chill begins run up and down my spine. My hand does not feel like mine anymore, pressure confines and warps my whole arm, squeezing it so this new arm can be forced over it. All the hairs on my neck stand at attention, betraying the fact that for the first time I am afraid of what is happening to me. The change is no longer welcome.
My fear grows as I turn sensing that there is something behind me. At first I see nothing, but my uneasiness refuses to dissipate so I look more closely. Sure enough, I begin to see a presence that is at once familiar and unfamiliar. He is unfamiliar because I’ve never seen him like this before, yet familiar because he has been with me for as long as I can remember. But before, he always came when I needed him, never had I known that he was always there, walking just behind me.
I knew him because he was my closest companion, my only true hero. He never failed me and was strong in all the ways that I wanted for myself and others, but could never quite manage. Unwavering, fierce, and in control. In all my adventures, he was always the hero. He fought my battles and always won though, no matter how powerful the adversary. He had taken many forms over the years depending on my need, but now for the first time I saw what he really looked like. His visage was meant to strike fear into his enemies and I did not relish the way he was looking at me.
As I glanced around me I realized that I was essentially naked. I no longer had my beloved wings and the claws were gone as well. They were all his now, or rather, they had always been his, he had just let me believe that they were my own. My eyes went up and down his form, somehow both coveting and feeling revolted by his hard armored carapace, powerful wings, lethal claws, and viciously canine face. I looked into his cold coal black eyes and felt a fresh tingle of fear rush through me, accompanied this time with a feeling of vertigo and I had to reach out and lean on the wall in order to keep my balance. I had never given him a name, but now it leapt into my mind: Abolith.
The entire hallway was beginning to distort and bend, I felt like I was being torn away from this world. Always in the past I had sought to escape reality and welcomed any chance I got to leave this sad imperfect place behind. Now I felt my grip tighten on the wall as I willed myself to stay in the here and now, I did not want to go anywhere with Abolith. In a sick mockery of a smile he pulled back his obsidian lips in what he probably considered a friendly fashion and asked me in a voice reminiscent of coffin lids slamming shut why I wouldn’t go with him. I need to get back to work, I replied, unable to keep the pleading out of my voice. This only caused him to reveal more of those insanely sharp daggers that served as teeth, before he brushed my feeble excuse aside and reminded me that our journeys only took but a moment and not a soul would now that I had ever left. He reached out one of his talon like hands, beckoning me to take it and tumble, maybe forever, into the abyss.
I knew I had only moment until I would be forced to obey, there was no way I could resist him, it. I closed my eyes and cried out with all my soul, “Jesus, help me!” Immediately the pressure and the sense of falling dissipated. I opened my eyes to find a perfectly normal hallway that was blissfully empty. I breathed a word of thanks to my Lord and quickly went about my business.
I was free for the rest of the day, yet I could feel his presence, a little removed but still there, on the edges of my consciousness everywhere I went.
Abolith is there, waiting for me, as always, just one step behind.
I hate hallways.
* Chapter 3
On July 20th 2008, around midnight, I was possessed by a demon named Abolith. I’ll talk about what I know about Abolith later, but right now I want to write down what happened that night so I never ever forget. Not that I think I will, but time has a way of making the details fuzzy so I need to get this out now.
Allen asked me to come out with him for a smoke, and while I don’t smoke I enjoy sitting out there with him and talking about life. I had had more then a few drinks that night so my inhibitions were rather low, which may have allowed what happened to happen. We talked about our faith in God and our struggles. Allen wanted to know what was really going on with me, I’d always been rather vague with what I struggled with since it was both uncomfortable for me to talk about and last time I had laid it all out he had kind of freaked out. Of course, that was years ago and I didn’t know then about my issues that I know now. Still I was reluctant to open up to him, not so much because I didn’t think I needed to upon up to someone but because I did not want to burden him unnecessarily. It was hard enough for me to carry what I had inside me, why would I want to inflict that on someone I cared about?
I reminded Allen that I was an all or nothing kind of person and for me to open up to him meant I would have to get him involved with everything. He replied that he wanted to be there for me, and he would be as much as possible, but that I might need to seek help from more then him. It is relevant to mention that I had already started to sob at this point and my usual level of control and calm were almost completely stripped away. He was concerned about my drinking but I assured him that while it was a real issue that needed to be dealt with, that the real problems were much deeper.
It is was at this point that Allen said that the issue might be spiritual and that someone who had really helped him was Wes Wheatley. Things get a little fuzzy here because soon after he mentioned Mr. Wheatley’s name I felt a tremendous pressure pulling me to the ground and Allen says that I said something like “He’s taking over now” and then after a few moments I gasped “Pray, pray now.” Then Abolith got in the drivers seat.
I don’t know how other people experience it, but being possessed was not anything like I thought it would be. It had control, but not complete control. I guess you could say that it had only been given so much authority over me. (More on this later).
I was pressed to the ground and no matter how much I/it tried I could not get up. I started to breath heavily and hissing and growling. I was also digging my nails as deeply as I could into the boards on the deck and scrapping back towards me in a clawing motion. We both fought over control of my mouth with Abolith winning most of the time and me only able to cry out for Allen to continue praying or asking God why this was happening to me.
Allen started praying, asking God for protection and claiming me for Jesus Christ. When he told the demon to leave in the name of Jesus, It/I just laughed at him and started to mock Allen.
At some point Allen started calling people on the phone, he had no idea what to do and needed support. I continued to growl, yell, cry, laugh, and thrash about for quite some time. It could here the fear in his voice and loved it. It laughed in glee and Allen later told me that the people on the end of the phone who heard it could feel the demonic presence.
This went on for some time but eventually Allen asked me to come inside. I could still not get up but I managed to crawl, or rather slither, into the apartment and started heading for the bathroom. It was at this point that Abolith started trying to kill me. It made me turn on the water in the bathtub and it wanted me to put my head under the water and let myself drown. Allen had to repeatedly turn off the water and prevent me/it from carrying this out.
After one of the times he left the bathroom I was laying sprawled half in the bathtub when the force pressing me down suddenly lifted. I had control of my body back, but I could still feel him inside me. We walked over to Allen’s room and found him reading scripture aloud while still on the phone. We were not overly concerned with this and asked Allen if he minded if we joined him. He stared back at me and We looked him directly in the eye and grinned.
Allen started reading again and we joined in with him in a mocking sing song voice. At this point we were calm and collected and were having fun freaking Allen out. Allen told me that he had called my family that they were on their way over, Abolith smiled and replied that he thought that while it seemed totally unnecessary to trouble them at this late hour that he would nevertheless be glad to see them.
* Chapter 4
Once again I stood in that desolate land; a land where nothing ever got a chance to grow. Anything with the audacity to spring up was soon trampled under foot by the creatures that held the land captive. They fed not on the bounty of the earth but the souls of men. Thus they saw plants as merely another chance to destroy something good.
Looking at myself I could see that they had been feeding on me, possibly for quite some time, fore I hardly resembled the image of my creator anymore. My skin no longer shone with the light of His life, instead I had fire blackened scales covering my body and at the end of my arms were talons, not hands.
Looking about me I saw a patch of heat blasted sand which was reflective enough to get an idea of what I looked like. What I saw both horrified and fascinated me. In its jaw I saw the strength of will to get my way, but not enough to choose His way. I saw eyes keen with the perception with which to see the flaws of others, but rather then use this knowledge to help them overcome they instead sought to exploit these flaws for my own gain. Looking deeper I saw a soul that ate the affirmation of others yet refused to build up those around him. In essence, I saw a creature more then capable of taking care of its own perceived needs and totally disinterested in the needs of those around it.
The Strength I saw was both a comfort and a sorrow to me. I remembered times when I had forgone such strength and instead simply wore the white robe my Creator had given me. I remembered those times as good times, they numbered among the best of my memories.
Yet as I looked about me I saw that the now was quite desperate and there was no garden or anywhere safe to rest in anyplace that the eye could see. The only choices I could see were to fight the creatures that prowled this land on my own or try to hide, waiting for something, something that might never come. I knew what happened when I fought.
Last time I had decided to fight I had stood tall, I wore my scars as badges’ of honor. I stood on the strength that I had earned on my own. I fashioned for myself armor of burnished bronze which shone with the dull gleam of a soul that refused to be beaten. I put upon my head a helm banded with bands of iron, one of which read “My will cannot be conquered” and another of which said “I choose my own path”. I girded myself with a two edged sword with which I cut to the heart anyone that stood against me. In my left hand I grasped a spear that pierced any falsehood or deception that I chose to put it against, and in my right I held a great shield shaped from a single diamond and impervious to virtually any assault. Lastly I put upon my feet boots made to resemble large talons so that I would never give ground unwillingly. I stood proudly, waiting for the onslaught that I knew would come, but would fall harmlessly away from me and the power that I held within myself.
When I fell what seemed eons later, but it could have been weeks, days, or mere hours, and the creatures had supped at my soul yet again, I crawled into some corner, pierced with my own spear, to recover from my wounds. I laid under a rock and gasped for breath, hoping that the creatures would not be back soon.
I Lay there far past the night and into the morning. Outside my shelter I could see that it was raining, as it did each morning. I knew what it was and I was afraid of it more then any of the creatures that crawled across this land. That rain was more then rain, it was mercy and grace. I knew that to stand in that rain was to be washed of all sin, to be forgiven and made clean. However, I knew that if you stood in that rain you were also stripped of everything else as well.
No weapon or armor made in this land could withstand that rain. You would be left naked before the fury of this forsaken place. You would have to trust in His protection. He allowed you no armor to protect yourself with. Weapons of our own construction were strictly forbidden. The only tools given were truth, righteousness, faith, salvation, the gospel, and the Word. I could not really see how any of these were useful against what I knew waited out there.
The truth was they were too powerful, righteousness only lasted a moment, and there was nothing worth having faith in. I had seen salvation torn from far too many souls. I heard the gospel so many times it hardly registered as anything but background noise anymore and the Word was just as tired and boring as the gospel.
Yet, even as I told myself these things I looked longingly into the rain and wondered if I had the courage to walk into it anyway. I look through the rain and see many others in similar shelters wondering the same thing, dreading both night and day, wondering, hoping, desperate, for something, anything, to save us from this horrible place.
Good God, why am I still under this rock?