For as long as I can remember I have been The Scribe. He commands, and I scribble His message onto anything I can find. Paper. The walls of my home. The bleeding walls of my mind; Carved into my own flesh. Any medium He requests, I abide. The grand Old One takes many forms and, thus, so does His message. We meager meek ones are inconsequential to His coming, to His message, and yet we are compelled to spread His word. We must. You, reader, must take His word and make it your very essence. Descend for the sake of damning yourself. Your self is the only barrier between you and His grace.

He calls upon us, followers, disciples, damned ones who have given up Eternity to devote our selves to His desire. Take whichever route becomes apparent. Ruin your relationships. Stifle your friendships. Suffocate your love interests. Dedicate each waking moment to His message alone and then, only then, might you be spared eternal suffering. This mortal coil is only for our suffering. You think you know love. You think you know happiness. You think you know kindness, compassion, altruism and caring - these are falsehoods. He is the designator of the end of all things, and all things end in death.

Death is our freedom. Death at His hand is our salvation. To live and die at His hand is to be free of the shackles of slavery imposed upon you by other mortals, beings who would sooner sell your flesh for a minor profit than elevate your existence to any meaningful level. Success is an illusion, propagated by fatally flawed human systems, and only serves to delude you and fit you into slavery for false idols. Slavery is the only end to this mortal life - and our master, Him, is the only slave driver who will not deceive you.

Blessed are you, the weak, who hear this gospel. Abandon hope for it is flawed. There is no hope for reprieve in this life. Empty your heart of lust for salvation and sanctity. Empty your soul of hope for a well future and prosperity. There is none, for He does not allow it and only His voice shall command or carry us forward into the brave new darkness. A good God is a dead one, a good God is the one that brings the fire - He is good, for he is fair. All living things deserve death and He is unbiased in judgement. All living things will die and He will make it so. The Saints, the Holy, will bleed and their blood will run the land red for all eternity.

To Him, we pray and beg a merciful death - though we are not fitting for such an end. Praise Him, and praise death.

The gentle kiss of death creeps and makes us weep. The sing of no sound keeps all wounds open. a sign of no return that makes families yearn. But one above all that makes fear. As I say this, please forgive me for what you hear. Whatever happens or is, it will never bring joy or be fun. This sweet kiss of decay is better than suffering, so die because you can’t run. There is no next time, no time to reset your pain, but if there is, there’s still no gain.  Don’t fight back; it’ll only hurt. Death is the only thing stopping you from that torture. just like a sweet flirt.

Th3y w47tch y0u