Something wicked this way comes...

"...From here, he began to study the soul more in-depth. Studying philosophies on life. Nihilism, existentialism, transcendentalism, then Taoism, Confucius, and many other things. He began to study Catholicism for specific things regarding the soul. Then he began to study astrology, numerology, gemetria numerology, Life-Paths and many other theories on the soul and who people are in general. Through his emotional experiences, and his spiritual ones, he discovered something incredible. Through meditation and guidance of spirits he discovered the universe in a whole new way. The existence of a G-d became proven to him. His depression began to lift, though traces of it still mark his soul, and mark his weakness.

The more his powers developed, the more he began to notice the Demons and evil spirits subtly influencing governments, religious organizations, and corporations. The world became a world of dancing puppets who danced to unseen puppeteers. He watched and observed their movements from afar. looking for a pattern, wondering what he could do. The demons and the evil things in the world seem to have already won. All hope seemed futile, fighting the good fight would be an uphill battle, only the hill was a mountain, and the only way to get to the top would be to scale the cliff-face -  a straight vertical climb.

So he lived by his beliefs, hoping that his little deeds would influence other people, and inspire them in little ways to be better, do better. He smiled more often, made other people smile, gave un-do respect to others. He was well liked, and easily forgotten. In those small instances the people people were not puppets, but when they were out of sight, out of reach, they became puppets again. His efforts seemed to be failing, except for those small moments where his kindness freed them. He tried none-the-less, and soon the Demons started to notice him.

Soon, people began to notice him, look at him differently. He began to feel a tension in the atmosphere, and the people he was so kind to were no longer kind back. Some stared at him, gave him dirty-looks. Yet, despite the negativity, his luck seemed to hold out, as if something was preventing them from acting. As if there was an Angel at his back, a Guardian Angel. Unbeknownst to him, there was an ongoing war in the realm of spirits, a realm that he had yet to travel to. Angels and Demons clashed, and Earth was a battle-field. Most of the Land was controlled by Demons, and the water by Angels, save Jerusalem - the one territory on land that was held by Angels. 

But there were other wars as well, wars that spanned dimensions and universes. There was not just a war between Angels and Demons, but between gods and men, superheroes and super-villains. The never-ending wars. Would he join? He wasn't sure. Forces were always working in opposition to each other. He sat by and looked on, not participating - for now. Within every man there is the capacity to be and do good, so it should be that within every man is the capability to be peaceful. This ideology, however is thrown in his face when FBI agents go to his school to bring him in for questioning and when he says no, they started shooting. He fled, using the fire escape door at the back of the classroom. 

He ran as hard as he could from them, but as he reached the parking lot he noticed that there were several FBI SUVs parked in the parking lanes. He stopped in his tracks, seeing no alternative, and they shot him. This could arguably be his first death. He awoke later with a massive headache, but no mark where the bullet had hit his head. He was in a black bag, so that no one could see his body. He felt the bag lifted into a vehicle, and decided to wait it out.

Eventually, when he was still for a long time, and he couldn't hear any voices or movement, he unzipped the body bag. Finding himself in the morgue of a hospital, he quickly decides that leaving is the best option here. He walked out the front door. After all, who would stop a dead man? The receptionist, looked up, with a confused look, but otherwise did nothing as he left. There in the street outside the morgue he met his first demon. It was humanoid, had pale skin, no mouth, no nose, white eyes, no hair, and tall. Very out of place, but no one noticed it..."

Author: Legendarystory aka Nicholas O.

A couple years ago, I started a journey. A journey to understand myself, a journey of self-discovery. I studied many philosophies and religions to find out which one was right for me, and which ideals I felt were necessary to live. I looked on the internet for my astrological signs, for numerology reports and all that jazz. I did a ton of research. I spoke to Psychics too, and they confirmed what all of my research pointed to, and shed some light on other things. My name is Nicholas, which comes from the greek word for victory and people, it literally means victory of the people. My last name is german for mount olivet, the mountain where Jesus of Nazareth ascended into heaven to join God in heaven. I am a Pisces, almost to the letter, and I was born in the month of the Tiger and the year of the monkey. I could go on about what astrological animals or trees or symbols I was from different astrologies. There's a ton of overlap. And it almost completely describes who I am as a person. The research into myself eventually turned to meditation, and that took awhile.

I would start out, trying to get into the meditative state of mind, for a few minutes every day, and eventually, after weeks of trying, I got there. It was different, things became clear and I had what I would describe as "enlightening thoughts". I should probably mention now that the psychics' I spoke to mention to me that I had psychic potential - the ability to become so attuned to the universe that I could predict the future and learn from the universe etc. I'm also a true empath. If you don't know, an empath is someone who is more sensitive to the emotions of others than normal people. So, I might as well have been told that I'm special. Meditating began to increase my empathic ability, among other cognitive functions, but empathy is where I noticed it the most. And it almost became too much, feeling the emotions of everyone around me, was like standing in an auditorium where hundreds of people were trying to talk over each other. I had a really hard time controlling it. Especially while I attended school.

I went to a community college while all this was going on. My self-discovery. I hit some rough patches, and found that I had seasonal affective depression. I was no spring-chicken, I was a winter bird. In the springs I would find motivation hard to come by, and in the winter I had motivation to do whatever I needed to do. Either that, or it was the environment. I learned a lot about myself, some things scared me at first, but I came to accept them, accept myself.

I didn't really hang out with my friends much, they had their own lives, or spent more time together without me. I was always in school, or at work. I spent a lot of time alone. I probably seemed really reclusive to a lot of people. I made a lot of people smile though. I remember that very well, when I smiled at people, most of them smiled back. I made innocent jokes, that made some people laugh, break out of the lined frown. I hid myself from people, by flashing a smile and saying "I'm fine, thank you" or "I'm doing alright." Always made eye-contact. People believe you more when you make eye-contact. You also learn more about them when you make eye-contact.

So, a couple of years ago while all this was going on, my demons were gaining strength. My personal demons, my persistent doubt in myself, my suppressed rage, my suppressed and repressed thoughts. All the things that have accumulated since childhood. They were no longer psychological demons, though, they had manifested themselves and became independent of me. They were loosed upon the world. At the time, I didn't know what they were, or that they existed, the only thing I noticed was an increase in violent crime.

I had just gotten out of school, finished finals, and was out for the summer. At the time, I hadn't decided whether or not I wanted to take summer classes, to get ahead and make getting my degree a little easier. At the same time, however, in that week before I had to make a complete decision, something unexpected happened. Something that fundamentally shook the nation. A terrorist attack, the press called it, but their was video of it up on media websites all around the world within hours of it happening. A man attacked the white house and he burned more than half of it to the ground. It was out of this world. And not only did he attack the white house, but he fought of the military and escaped. They had no idea where he was or who he was.

My interest was immediately piqued. But I had to focus on school, and my future, so I paid it no mind. That, and my mind was always thinking of this one girl I liked. I would, however, keep what had happened in mind, as would everyone else in the world. The videos on these media sites showed that the man used no apparent weapon, he simply summoned fire from his hands. Magic, I thought, it had to be magic. Of course, this was the seed of an obsession.

As time passed, the media exploded with footage of the attack, and it was bludgeoned to death on television. The President was away at the time, so the media played it up that the nation was relieved at him being alive. Obviously, some people weren't. So the attack on the white house was the spark that would ignite the second american revolution. This time, it was not north against south, it was more convoluted than that. In some cases it was brother against brother or sister against sister. There was a division in family as well as friends. But it was necessary.  Revolution was necessary, the  bloodshed that followed was not.

People were angry with how the government tried to control their life, take away their rights. It started with the 2nd amendment. The right to bear arms, something that  seemed so fundamental to the well being of america was threatened by the white house and the president specifically. Some of the revolutionary radicals claimed that the man who burned the white house was one of these revolutionaries. This earned them the dreaded label as "terrorist". After this, something that I never would have expected to happen, happened. People began pointing fingers, turning people in for being a "revolutionary" and part of this so-called "terrorist" group. They didn't realize that they were doing exactly what the revolutionaries said the government would make us do. Turning in people who had thoughts that opposed the government were now being arrested.

America was falling apart. I stopped going on facebook because I learned that one of my teachers had been arrested for a status he had written. They were monitoring everything people were saying now. People voted out of fear now, phones were tapped, computers were tapped, nothing said was private anymore. The government had eyes and ears everywhere. It all started with one man who was different. So I began looking up ways to be like that one man. In the end, I had to meditate and focus on myself. I found this article, or how-to guide on who to increase psychic ability, so I tried that. It was, in a nutshell, meditation followed by directed thoughts to achieve what you wanted to achieve. Being scientifically inclined, I tested it, if it worked, sweet, if not, then it was a false claim. I practiced for a month and nothing happened. So I marked it off my list, and put it behind me.

My internet searches, however, caught the eyes of the government. FBI Agents showed up at my door wanting to talk. I felt that I had nothing to hide, so I let them in and we spoke. They let me off with a warning, because I was young, and I think they dubbed my as "harmless". But after that, I watched what I searched, and instead I went to the library for answers. They can't track what you read. They can't read your mind. So I fell off the grid, so to speak, I started using cash only, no cards of any sort. I started paying more attention to the world around me, and my sensei, and his sensei. Both of them, I felt, would be considered risks, because of their viewpoints on the government, and what they were doing. I agreed with them some of the time.

They thought the government was overstepping its bounds. treading on the rights of the people because of that one fire throwing man. The internet ended up calling him fire-bringer, some even dubbed him lucifer, or the anti-christ. People began saying it was the end of days. This is crazy, I thought, these people don't know what they're talking about. All the while, that summer, I remained sane, where everyone else, even my mother, seemed to go crazy.

I was out one day, riding my bike, exorcizing in the summer heat, and I pulled up to this intersection. I was standing idle, waiting for the white walking sign to appear on the opposite side of the street, when a speeding car ran the red light, and collided with another car. The speeding car flipped and tumbled onto the asphalt, straight towards me. My whole world slowed down to fractions of seconds. I saw glass flying through the air, and I moved from my bike, my body seemed to know where to move, and the car rolled over me, without hitting me, and hit the streetlight behind me. My entire body was shaking. I got up, my legs felt like rubber - I had nearly died.

I had to sit down on the curb, and i didn't move until the paramedics came with the police. They took out the people from the cars, the drivers had both been killed on impact, and only one person from the non speeding vehicle lived. It had been a full car, but the guy who was speeding was going well over 120 miles per hour. insanely fast. The paramedics moved people from the cars to body bags, or into the ambulance to be taken to the hospital. I was shaken, and gave my statement to the police, and was taken to the hospital by the paramedics to see if I was okay. I only had a few scrapes from where I had fallen to the ground and moved to get out of the way of the car. My bike was ruined. I was alive, but I was traumatized. /they hooked me up to some meds to help me rest, and I slept. I didn't rest though, I had fucking nightmares about that car accident and nearly being killed by that car that bounced on the asphalt.

According to the police, and other witnesses statements, I was lucky to be alive. In fact, one of the witnesses thought that I had died because he didn't see me go under the car to escape being crushed by it.

The days after that, no, the weeks after that I had dreams that I died. I had died and gone to hell, where I would see everyone I love, everyone I had loved, suffer for eternity, and witnessing that and being able to do nothing about it was my punishment. These were serious nightmares. I never dreaded going to sleep, I only dreaded having that dream. I also began seeing things. People watching me, incorporeal, people walked right through them as if they weren't there. It was eery. With these hallucinations came whispering voices. I thought I was going crazy. These voices in my head, they would say my name or call for my attention. They sounded like they were outside of my head, standing perhaps a few feet away.

I started seeing a psychologist for post-traumatic stress. It was all just too real for me. For some reason, however, I never mentions the hearing of voices. I would go and talk twice a week. We would talk about the events of the accident, and I would go over it in detail. The roar of the engine, the sound of crunching metal and breaking glass. The sound of the car horn going off, of the car bouncing over the pavement towards me. Of my impulse to move out of the way, by jumping forwards to hit the ground, and not out of the direct path. Of how I went towards the danger to escape it, rather than away. We talked about how I knew that was the right decision, how I knew I would not get hit by the car. In time, that sort of helped. I started getting a little bit better. I had nightmares less and less, and I didn't have a fear of intersections.

Then, life decided that I should have a relapse. I witnessed another car accident, this time involving an 18-wheeler and a smart-car. The smart-car lost control and drove into traffic going the opposite way, they hit the 18-wheeler head on. There was nothing left of the smart car, and only blood stains left of its driver and passenger. the truck driver was shaken, he kept saying to the paramedics "I didn't even see them..." If the 18-wheeler had not been on the road that day, that space that it occupied would have been clear, and the smart car would've run me over. I'd have been hit by that car. This time, the dreams came back with a vengeance, but they didn't just include everyone I cared about, mostly they had just one person. This one girl I recognized.

My psychologist told me I was going into a depression. I started being less productive at work, and I had all but forgotten about school. I just kept seeing these dead people. Their faces seemed to haunt my days. I'd see their faces in all of the customers. One day I just couldn't handle it, and I left early from work. I laid in bed for the rest of the day. Trying to forget. That same day, some maniac drove through the front of the store. Some truck, right through the doors of the front, they would've killed whoever was up front, but they had walked away from the counter for a moment. I couldn't take it anymore. I called my work to tell them I was leaving. I told my mom I had to get away.

She was really sad, there was nothing she could do to change how I was feeling, and she couldn't comfort me. I left home. I lived on the streets. I lived in the desert. I left behind the world of cars and streets and buildings. I lived in a park, a desert range. In the summer it would be in 100's during the day, and the 80's during the night, relatively warm. I would sit at night, and listen to the coyotes howl, or an owls hoots. During the days I would listen to the silence of nature, the occasional rattling of a rattle snake. I was alone. I was at peace.

Now, when I was younger, I had been in boy scouts, so I had an idea of how to live in the desert and make a shelter to protect myself from the elements. Not that I needed to, I was more at risk to snake bites or spiders than the elements. I guess I stayed out their in the desert for a long time, days passed, weeks passed, and I just wandered around. I ate vegetation mostly, I couldn't bring myself to hunt rabbits or any animal that I found. I found that every time I caught a rabbit, or any animal really, I felt an overwhelming sense of sadness and familiarity with the creature, so I let it go. In my desert dwelling I came across many of the wild cats, mountain lions, bobcats and other felines. They all stayed their distance, but they watched me.

I must have consumed some sort of hallucinogen at some point during these walks or hunting trips. At one point, I could have sworn that the animals were talking to me, specifically the cats. They would say things like "He's approaching the spiders den, on his left foot" or "He's near the tree where the snake likes to hunt" and I would look at them in complete bewilderment. I tried talking to them too, but they were always silent. In time I realized that I was recognizing signs of habitation, noticing things like snake territories or spider territories. I also began to recognize feline tracks, and Coyote tracks. I hadn't seen many coyotes, I saw the occasional paw print, but never one up close. Not until I had been out there for weeks on end, being stalked by the felines.

The first coyote I saw was wounded, it had been beaten by one of the desert cats, it had scratch marks and bite marks, and it limped on. I can't really describe the sudden extreme sense of sympathy that I had for the poor beast. I walked towards it boldly, and without fear, the coyote growled when I approached, but made no move to escape. when I knelt down by it, its tone changed. The Growl became a whimper, I felt myself imbued with the power of nature, the power of my mother earth. The power to heal. The coyote laughed as I healed it, and ran off into the desert leaving me in the dust. I stopped to help an injured creature, it laughed, and ran away. Left me behind. Was it the fate of a healer to heal and be considered done with? The power that filled me with the energy to heal faded shortly after that, and it was if I had never had that power at all, for I couldn't replicate it afterwards.

I was curious. I was in the ancient lands of the native american peoples. Perhaps it was their gods, their spirits that lived here then, and sought to show me these things. I began thinking of what little I knew of the general native american indian religions. We had the Great Spirit, the Creator, we had animism, spirits that lived in the trees and all animals, we had the trickster coyote, the wise owl, and many other spirits of the land. So perhaps the coyote I healed was the trickster spirit, and I was tricked into healing him for he had been messing with the felines, who were respected predators of the land. Had I aided the trickster, allowing him to trick again, sooner than he would have otherwise? And what of the Felines? I sat down in the dirt to think. As I sat, a spider climbed up my back, and into my hair. I knew that it was going to happen, I felt him climb onto me, but I did nothing to stop it. the spider posed no threat to me.

Then it hit me, in native american theology, the spider was a spirit of patience, perhaps my mind was moving to fast, and it needed to slow down. The answers would come in time, after all. In my semi-hallucinogenic state of mind, I thanked the spider for its wisdom, and aided it in finding the earth again, it would find no food in my hair after all. So I stood up and wandered the desert, like a vagabond, I walked through the sand and the dirt. I didn't look for an answer to my thoughts. As I walked, I looked into the beauty of nature and let my mind fly. I spent many weeks out in that desert.

One grey overcast day, I met an Owl, sitting on the branch of what looked to be a dying tree. The Owl looked at me in the eye. I thought it was looking into my soul, for that is what it certainly felt like. Then, to my surprise, the owl flew at me, grabbing at my hair, but I ducked, and turned to see where he flew. On this overcast day, I chased the owl. For miles I ran, I ran and I ran and I ran, until the Owl, at long last, landed upon a rock by the edge of a mountain. I walked towards the Owl, and he remained still, but instead of looking at me, looked over the edge of the mountain. There I saw what looked like a camping ground, one of the ones that you could drive into if you wanted to instead of backpacking in. The Owl cooed, and hopped around, like a bird does, on the stone, looking for something, I assumed. I looked on at the campers far down below.

I remember when I used to go camping with the other boy-scouts, way back in the day. I enjoyed it, being away from the hustle and bustle of the city, of the suburbs, having little to no requirements placed on you, not relying on cell phones or laptops for entertainment. It was peaceful. The nostalgia filled my mind and I sat on the edge, dangling my legs over the face of the cliff. The Owl seemed to find what it was looking for, because then it pecked at me, with a note clutched in its talons.

A note.

I retrieved the note from the owl, who then flew away, and looked at what was written. The first thing I saw was "Nicholas... I know how you might feel right now." written in this curly cursive writing that I recognized, it was written by a psychic I had once seen a long time ago, who know helped a man find his fortune, who paid her in the hundreds of thousands, or gave her cars. She was so legit, that I felt her presence when she did her psychic reading of me. I've never felt such a presence in my life. Not only that, but the things she revealed to me at the time were things that no one, not even my mother knew. She proved herself to me, essentially, showing to me that she could in some way communicate with the universe. Which was difficult.

I read the note once, then twice, then thrice, and on the fourth time I looked up and thought, "What the fuck." I had no idea what she meant by anything written, talking about powers and the alignment of stars, and an awakening. It made no sense at the time. I put the note in my pocket, and stood up, and for a brief moment I was airborne. I had no grip on the earth, nothing to grab, I flailed my arms about in the vain hope that it would save m life somehow. I fell maybe thirty feet, maybe more, and cracked my skull on the rock below. That was the last thing I remembered that day, reading that note.

I was sitting on the face of the cliff again. Looking out over the campers in their campsites. The day was hot and I was sweating in my dirty clothes, that I had worn for weeks now. I, without a doubt, smelled. My skin was dry, cracked in some places, my hair was in a stringy mess. I could not remember the last time I had bathed. As I sat there thinking of my lack of hygiene, a crow cawed and caught my attention. When I attended the community college by my house, I had watched the birds there, and I would venture to say that some of them recognized me. I would sit out in the middle of the campus and watch the birds looking for food in the grass or flying about from tree to tree, and listen to their calls and "conversations" with each other. It was pretty interesting, I could go on about my observations of them, and some hints to personality that I saw. Today that crow flew right over my shoulder, and he landed on a branch near the bottom of the cliff face. Then looked up at me.

I felt a sudden compulsion to read the note again, and I realized that there was a part of it that I missed, it was written in slightly larger text and said plainly, "Read after you die." I sat there for a moment, taken aback by what I had just read. Then I read it in its entirety. "On a cloudy day, overcast without sun, you will have fallen from the cliff and died near a tree, hitting hard stone. A Crow will be sitting on the branch of the the tree nearest your death. The site near your death will be a test of your willingness to help others. Speak these words aloud to begin your journey. You have had a hard life, you have lived many lifetimes and seen many things and by that you think of the bigger picture: For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and everyone who humbles himself will be exalted."

As I read the last of the note aloud, the clouds began to darken, and the winds began to pick up. A storm was brewing. Coincidence, I thought, there can be no connection between what I say aloud and what happens. Magic isn't real, after all, I can tell myself that magic is real, but that doesn't make it real. So this coincidental storm brewing, was pretty strong, I had to move away from the cliff face, so that the wind didn't pull or push me off. The only thing that seemed entirely unaffected by the storm was the crow. But the more I see, the less I know for certain. "Let's see where this goes." I thought to myself. The Crow gave its ca-caw before soaring away on the stormy wind.

And so lightning struck the campground and thunder shook the earth. Though the roar of the storm was deafening, I could still pick out the yells and screams of people in the campground. I could feel the hairs on my arms and legs, and the back of my neck begin to stand on end, despite being so thoroughly soaked by rain. My skin began to have a tingling sensation, and as I looked around me, the very ground beneath my feet seemed to glow a soft blue. "Wait a minute," before I could finish my thought a bolt of lightning struck me. In that flash of burning white, I felt awakened. I never lost consciousness, I was still standing after the strike. I was breathing heavier, but I only felt more alive. In the brevity of my excitement, it never dawned on me that if I had been struck by a true lightning bolt, I'd have been on the ground, and probably died in this weather, as opposed to still standing and totally fine.

Shortly after the lightning strike I saw the shadow of a man move from the clouds to the ground. Lightning leapt from his fingertips and struck the campgrounds, lighting trees afire and destroying campsites. Compelled to do nothing, I stood and watched. The more damage was done, the more destruction that I witnessed done by this one man, the weaker my compulsion to stay became. I observed the branches of the trees begin to give off a blue light, and I realized, dimly, that lightning was going to strike.  The blue light grew brighter the more the man cast electricity. I wondered if the area would reach a threshold of some kind, and what would happen if it did.

As I watched, I felt something within me awaken. It was unique, and painful. At first, my heart began to pound, faster and faster, harder and harder, and it hurt, I felt like my heart was going to explode from my chest. my hands natural groped at my clothes, and tore off my shirt, gripping my chest. I could see a light inside my chest, pulsing with the beating of my heart, glowing purple. I could see the outline of my heart clearly through my rib cage. I was writhing on the ground in pain, my heart was going into overdrive, I thought I was going to die from cardiac exhaustion. Fate, however, had other plans.

As I laid there in the rain, my heart glowing purple and beating hard and fast, that purple glow took to my veins and arteries, outlining my entire cardiovascular system, ending with the brain, I assumed. Pain spread with the glowing purple light, like a burning or piercing pain, I couldn't tell. When it reached my brain, the entire world seemed to go black and white. I have no words to describe that pain. I also have no words to describe what it is I saw when the purple stuff got to my eyes, there were lights everywhere, within people, objects, trees, everything. The pain that I felt afterwards was immense, like there was a fire burning within me, charring up my insides, like there was cellular war being fought with burning chemicals or napalm. That's when I found a connection, something that I could mentally grasp. It was like holding a flower, delicate.

In this moment, I was disturbed by the man destroying the campsite. He came upon me like a flash of lightning and I was blown away. The ground was scorched and the smell of burnt wood and flesh filled the air. I was on my back and I was hurting, burned by the flash of destruction. I looked up and a man in black robes stood not 10 feet away from me.

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