The Freetown State Forest Cult

A lot goes through a man’s mind when he decides to kill himself. First you bargain with yourself, believe that it’s all going to be alright. But its never alright, and it hasn’t been for a while. Once you realize that nothing will change, the future looks bleak and one day you just decide to kill yourself. 

Ray Clarke, thirty-two years old and perpetually unemployed, has decided to use that Glock .40 of his, stick that barrel snug against his chin, and just…Well you get the point. Where has he chosen to spend his final moments? In the Freetown State Forest. 

And here he was, making a path toward a spot to be determined. His mind has been made up. There was no way he’d pussy out again. Not this time.

As he walked his mind drifted back to high school. That’s when he was at his happiest. Had he known that his life would be shit every day of his adult life he would have ended it all at his peak. Go off on a high note. There won’t be a high note tonight. Every second is worse than the last. Constant pain, the bullshit of life. Get a job they say, well Ray’s a felon, even worse he is a woman beater. 

That’s right, Ray knocked his lady around one drunk evening and left her three teeth less. He did a year. He did his time. Ray wanted a second chance. Did he deserve one, no he didn’t but regardless, a felon just can’t get a decent job, if any at all. 

“Stop distracting me.”

I suppose we should focus on the mission at hand. 

Ray walks until nightfall and decided to camp out for the night. Was he having second thoughts?

“I’m going to do it”

Perhaps he was looking for that perfect spot, a spot anyone would love to die at. Tonight, he lives, but tomorrow is another day.

Ray was asleep in the tent when he heard drumming. He tried to shrug it off as just his imagination, but it continued. Soon after he hears people chanting.

“What in the fuck is going on?”

Ray grabbed his Glock and made his way toward the sound. Walking briskly, he jumped over fallen logs and puddles. Then he stopped. Hidden by the bush Ray could see a clearing full of people in robes. Some are drumming, some are singing. In the center is a huge bonfire. Then they stop.

“Berith, we call to you!” a woman yells and the rest repeat. “Disrobe.”

Men and woman stood naked in the woods, and it became obvious to Ray that this was a cult. He pulled out his Glock, just in case. Then he watched.

The cultists passed around a goblet, each member taking a drink. Get it in your blood, they scream. Enrage him, they holler. For Berith! And once everyone has taken a sip everyone stood at attention, not moving a muscle.

They seemed to be in a trance induced by something in that goblet. Ray wondered what it could be. Then they all began to shriek as loud as they could at the sky. For a minute this continued and then…silence. 

Just like that they all return from their trance. For a second, they stumble around, disoriented and then they began growling like beasts and jumping on each other. The entire cult was biting each other and ripping off large pieces of flesh. One of them was killed and the others tore him open, spilling his organs all over. A few from the crowd pounced on the carcass, shoveling viscera into their mouths. 

Ray got up and turned, slowly making his way back to camp so he can secure his shit and get out of there. But Ray is careless and steps on a loud branch, and the snap grabs the attention of one of the cultists. 

The cultist stands there, drenched with blood, eyes locked on with Ray. He took off with the cultist following him. He swatted away branches until he stumbled on the game trail leading back to his car. Once the path was clear he took off, that thing growling behind him.

Out of breath Ray stopped, fully expecting the cultist to pounce on him and rip his esophagus out. When it became apparent that death wasn’t coming, he opened his eyes, startled to see the cultist starring at him.

“Let me go.” Ray pleaded. The cultist screamed as something similar to an earth worm, but a lot bigger, ripped through that man’s chest and out came eight feet of this worm. 

“Surrender to Berith.” The monster spoke. “Surrender to-“

Ray unloaded the Glock into the monster’s head. The worm slammed around a bit but after a minute the monster dropped dead. 

On the way back Ray realized that it could get better. He was so close to death, and he didn’t want to go back for a long while. That experience had changed him. With his car in view Ray runs the rest of the way and stops at the door to take in that fresh air-.

Talons rip through Ray’s shoulders as the winged beast took off into the air. It was hard to tell but this looked more like a pterodactyl than a bird. But how could such things exist?

The thunderbird took Ray back to its nest where little baby creatures were waiting to devour him alive.

St Stephen Cemetery

It had rained earlier, just before the sun went down and now a light wind was gusting. It was a cool, crisp New England autumn with winter just around the bend. Soon it will be piles of snow, inaccessible streets and fighting over cleared parking spaces. But that’s not now. 

Liam drove in silence. Even when he was a teen, a decade earlier, he never got into music. Was he envious of those who can get lost in it, forgetting their problems in the soundscape? Of course, he was, nothing seemed to settle his anxiety except for one place.

Yesterday he was a young man with a job, a steady flow of income and although it wasn’t the best, he could survive on it. That was yesterday, today he got the can. Six years working for a company and all he got was a phone call one hour before his shift to alert him of his termination. The reason? He took too many extended breaks.

Well, what the fuck? He spent most days in total anxiety, ripping at him and causing him to feel like at any second a heart attack would strike. Of course, it never did, but those extended breaks were used for emotional breakdowns. Crying is what got him through the day, that and the place Liam just pulled into.

There was a modest church, white with chipped paint. The large doorways seemed both intimidating as well as welcoming. Outside was a lighted up sign which had the hours of worship posted. There were no services at two in the morning, but the church wasn’t why he came here.

All his endless torment and mental exhaustion seemed to dissipate the moment that he pulled into the parking lot. Putting the car in park, off in the shadows as not to be seen by people driving by, he looked at the only source of light at this place. The old street style light post was old and cast a soothing yellow glow. Liam stepped out of his car and made his way toward the grass.

Before him was the one place that would cleanse him of all his worries. Here he could calm his gut, reduce his heart back to a normal rhythm and bask in the beauty of letting go. 

These visits to the St. Stephen Cemetery were weekly, at least. There was a time where he’d go twice a month, but as the month went on he found himself drawn time and again back to that small graveyard.

He held his hand out, brushing headstones gently as he walked slowly down the row, breathing in that peaceful air. When he was younger, he tried smoking pot, drinking of course, but none of that helped. But this, that crisp air brushing past his cold cheeks, it channeled a soothing vibe throughout his tired body.

Something was off.

Although calming initially he felt his anxiety returning. 

Close your eyes

Slowly walking through the rows, breathing calmly with his eyes closed tight he tried to release but instead he felt a rush of panic.

You fucking loser!

He felt his right arm tingle, his chest tightened and suddenly his breathing became labored.

Not a panic attack, not here please!

It felt like a hand, not like a human, more ethereal, clasped around his throat, straining his airways. He wanted to scream but it was stuck in his chest. His gut swayed like it does on a ship in choppy water. Then suddenly it was all gone.

The anxiety, the strangling sensation, everything was gone, and he felt that calm and tranquility returning. 

What the fuck was that

Liam opened his eyes. To his left was a glow, on the far end of the cemetery. Without lights it was hard to make out much else, but he felt a draw to it. The closer he got the calmer he felt. Halfway there he had reached a level of contentment he had never experienced before. All his worries were gone. The job, his shitty apartment with his shitty roommate, even his ex-boyfriend, whom he still loved, it all disappeared.

Just feet away he could make out a large mausoleum, covered in candles. Its gothic architecture appeared sinister among all these peaceful graves. 

This wasn’t here before. I have come here a thousand times, seen every inch of this small cemetery and I never seen this.

There was a voice now, a woman’s voice, humming a soft, comforting tune from within the building. As if under a spell, driven by curiosity as well, Liam approached the building, slowly climbing its steps and into the open door.

Everywhere were candles but just as equally scattered around the tomb were human remains. Heads, torsos, hands, feet; all in various stages of decomposition and torn apart as if a wild animal had gotten to them. In the far back of the stone building was a chair, throne like in appearance, and on it was a naked woman.]

She was covered, from head to toe with fresh slice marks. Her entire body bled. Her hair was tattered with leaves and twigs and she was in the middle of…was she slicing off her own finger?

“Hey!” Liam yelled.

The woman stopped humming and turned toward him. She was a mutant of some sort, a living corpse. Her face was partially rotten and her eyes, peering deep into his own, were lifeless and cold. She opened her jagged teeth mouth and let out a scream which ripped through him, tearing out his tranquility and replacing it with fear.

Liam turned and bolted out the door. Everywhere were voices.

“You’re going to die Liam” a woman’s voice said.

“You can’t get away” it was the voice of a child.

“You better start running.”

The voices, they came from the ground. They were the dead speaking to him, warning him of something.

From the woods that lined the cemetery came a loud, demonic shriek. There was a rustling in the leaves.

“Oh, he’s fucked.” A man said.

From the woods emerged a monster. It stood about eight feet tall; it’s flesh rotting with the stench of putrefaction. It had a large head with long twisting horns. It had large black eyes and a large mouth full of enormous sharp teeth, they barely fit in its head. It was tall and gaunt. It shrieked and Liam ran.

Behind him he could hear the beast stampeding toward him, knocking over gravestones in the process. All the while the voices continued.

“It ends here Liam”

“You will join us soon.”

“You will make a fine addition to the mausoleum.”

Liam saw his car and like a runner at the finish line he gave it everything he got, that beast just behind him. Once at the car he quickly pulled the door open and dove inside. Keys in the ignition he turned but the car just sputtered.

“Come on you piece of shit!” 

The car continued to rev. Liam began punching the steering wheel, unleashing every swear he could think of. The panic, the fear, the anxiety, it was all back and worst that ever. His heart pounded in his chest; his breathing was rapid. Then he saw it, through his windshield.

The beast stood there, watching Liam. It didn’t move except for deep breaths. The monster was once human, it was obvious, but something turned it and now it was staring Liam down.

It rushed forward, onto the hood of the car and then up onto the roof. Liam screamed as the beast shrieked and pounded the roof of his car, leaving massive dents. The beast moved back to the hood and peered into the windshield. Liam quickly pulled himself up into the back seat just as the creature was pounding the windshield. It took two hits, and the beast was inside, eyes locked on its prey and making its way toward the terrified man.

When morning came a passerby called the police to report a badly damaged car. When they arrived, they found the car was registered to a Liam Sullivan. Upon further inspection officers found blood all over the car, but no sign of Liam.

An officer walked over to the edge of St. Stephen’s Cemetery and looked out at the small lot of stones. Nothing was disturbed and there was no sign of the tomb. The officer shook his head.

“Who wants to take a bet? I say the fucker’s dead.”

7/4/2022

I am currently in the early stages of writing and releasing four horror short stories which take place in New England. The stories will be available on the website as well as Kindle for .99. It will be coming out in the next few days.

Also there’s a new short story in the collection called St. Stephen’s Cemetery

Victims

Casualties are superfluous

Notably when the scandal ends

Many commiserated with them

Suddenly the exhile is forced further

We all realize there is a point of no return

these crippled, battered bodies are depleted

That’s why their wrists bleed, darling

The Chavajoth’s Channel

I accept the Chavajoth’s channeling

That gradual ascent toward the god head

Escalating up the Qliphoth

Duality at the top realm

Satan and Moloch

Each chamber overflows with sorcery

And I siphon it

Leaning over the vacuum

Glaring down

And the cosmic unwind is developing

And death will be ubiquitous

Reeking of the malevolent blood

Revived

Smash your clay form

Through ritual suicide

Blight

A trickling valve reverberates

As a November chill sneaks about

Crushed glass cuts open your bare feet

There’s burning from within

It transmits from your esophagus

And escapes your perjurer’s lips

Torn from the abdomen

A festering, gaping pit

Where worms prosper

Where your heart was once set

Now is inhabited by the festering

And the once venerable worm becomes a blight

2/7/2022

I added another album “The Original Drug Child: The Early Days” album to the Black Lodge Laboratory section along with a brand new single “Submission to the Weaver”. There is also a BLL t-shirt for sale on that page.

2/6/2022

I have included a new section of music called Black Lodge Laboratory. I have posted two albums, “Bedlam” which is new and “Goddamn America” which is a 2016 re-issue. Also I have posted a music interview on that page. Enjoy