[The following was transcribed by officer Anabeth Miller of Sapphire Falls police department. The original audio has been reviewed to verify authenticity and accuracy of this transcript; but degrades with each play. The speaker is assumed to be Tommy Grey Jr.]

  [Audio begins, there is latent room noise and inconsistent audio artifacts in the recording.]

  Welcome back free thinkers. I’m Tommy, coming at you from my parents’ shitty farm.

  “Come all ye faithful, the joyful and triumphant…” isn’t that how that song starts? It’s hard to remember these days. I remember that those used to be words that filled my heart with something, but I can’t really remember if it’s joy or hate. I remember that Father Darnette condemned that song, even when the Giving Season actually came upon us.

  I can’t even remember what the Giving Season is called by the apostates; poor souls too far lost to hear the words of Father Darnette and Rapture Radio. It meant so much to people who don’t understand the words and the methods of Our God. You know who I am referring to: the simpletons, the heretics, the philistines. The sheep that the government keeps ignorant by limiting the reach of Rapture Radio.

  [There is a 15 second pause.]

  Just lost time again, they must be listening. They must be trying to eat my dreams or scare me with another psi-op. The orgone shield must be weakening. That’s not really surprising: I’m in week five of their siege. Suck it, you vampiric reptiles.

  Father Darnette does not directly support the use of orgone, even after I showed him all of the research I pulled from the internet. He said he doesn’t see any harm in the use of it, but urged me to proceed with care. Works like these are a slippery slope; I must be vigilant in my defenses against the lure of witchcraft and the temptations whispered by the Old Ways. I know my faith is strong; that the Sword of Our God is heavy and sharp in my hands.

  This is such a glorious burden.

  I haven’t been a boy in the eyes of the mortal law for two years and I have not been a boy in the eyes of Our God for ten. I am a tried and proven warrior, a righteous crusader whose purpose glows brighter than the sun that orbits the Earth.

  What remains of Eden is a battlefield, sacred ground that I am willing to give up my life to defend. No government, no liberal, and certainly no lizard in a suit is going to take that from me. I know what they’re about- because I see everything. I know about the black rites and I am more than informed about what those psychos do to babies.

  Shit, we mean so little to the satanists, the reptiles, and the liberal elites that they ship children in furniture, right under our noses. We are nothing more than cattle to them, meat to be sucked dry of hope and sent back to work. Consume, consume, consume: that is all that they want from us until we are consumed in turn. It’s a psychotic repetition that so many sheeple just accept.

  Not me, though. Never me. I’ve been on all the right websites to find where the real truth is hidden. I’ve picked through the modern Library of Alexandria and I have begun to understand what the actual truth is. I…

  [Speaker does not utter a word for fifteen minutes. There is a sound of something wet ripping, followed by a crunching noise. Speaker sounds like he is hyperventilating while crying, which abruptly ends after 14 minutes and 57 seconds.]

  I just lost fifteen minutes. My knuckles are torn up, like I was just punching a brick wall over and over again. They’re so raw and split at their peaks that bone is exposed.

  Whatever you do; never forget that they’re always listening. If you have access to electricity they can hear you. If you were fool enough to get a vaccine, they don’t even need that. You’ve bugged your blood and given up privacy in the name of safety against a disease almost everyone survives.

  [A 6 minute pause occurs in the recording. During this time, there is a loud (possibly organic) buzzing and dissonant organ music. Children can be heard in the background, which are assumed to be the Grey sisters.]

  Lost time again, but this was different. My mouth takes like copper and snot. I’ve been subject to their psychic attacks hundreds of times, but this is the first one that seemed to have a physical effect. I need more orgone and I need more power. Seeing and understanding everything is not going to cut it. I need to be stronger, I need the potence to defend against these attacks.

  I need to go to Darnette, he’ll know what to do. He’s been with me for every siege so far. Him and Claudia understand what I’m going through, unlike my family.

  [Audio pauses here and resumes after an indeterminate amount of time.]

  Couldn’t meet with Father Darnette for very long, ma was pissed when she found out that I left. My assumption is that one of my three little sister-bitches snitched on me. All likelihood is that it was Darcy. I don’t get it, ya know? When I was their age, I wanted nothing more than to be left to my own devices; but I guess they aren’t destined to be thinkers like me. Shit, there’s three of them, how the hell can they not figure out how to make a pot of mac and cheese? All you need is a little thought, some butter and milk. From the research I’ve done, the blue box stuff is even free of the stupefying agents; so they don’t even really have that as an excuse.

  Ma is working overnights and pa is meeting with the proud heritage club in Sapphire Falls: they’ve got a problem with a couple of rats that got past the border, if you know what I mean. If you don’t follow: why the hell are you here? We think freely here. Facts don’t care about your feelings.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  Sorry to vent. The life of a crusader isn’t always glory and the mission. We have to deal with the dumbshit life stuff too. Ultimately, this is all unimportant. The Unravelling is quick on its approach. The time for humanity to pay the debt to Our God looms.

  Thank Our God that Claudia was there for the time I got with Darnette. Not only is she a fine looking woman, but she’s one of the smart ones- unlike the Three Stooges in the living room. She’s amounted to something that counts, more than my ma or those three will. That’s the type of woman that I want to make mine- a woman that respects her faith and is unafraid to cry praise for Our God. She’s got the beauty, the car, and the brains- a real sophisticated lady.

  Her and Father Darnette led me in prayer to bolster my defenses against these psychic attacks. I could tell the big guns were coming out when their words switched to Latin. There’s nothing better to drive back the devils than the original word.. The First Words have power, more than any other words that you encounter. Kind of like what I was talking about earlier- Latin has got that potence.

  Sure, I may not know what the words mean- per se’, but the meanings are not nearly as important as the power they possess. They armed me with a sacred trio of words, a phrase to fight back the darkness. I told them about the aches in my feet, the impossible weight on my shoulders and showed them how ragged my knuckles have gotten. Darnette assured me that these were signs of spiritual combat; that me and Our God were fighting back. Our God needs all of his strength to bring The Unravelling about, so I’ve got to do my part and take the lumps,

  I asked him if he remembered the heretical name for Giving Season. Claudia explained that the sheep call it “Christmas” and wholly lost the message of it. Unlike the faithful, they celebrate this Christmas by giving gifts to their loved ones; which is bullshit. We all know that material wealth should just be dedicated to the church and to furthering the agenda of Our God.

  [There is a sharp intake of breath on the recording, followed by rattling of cans on a desk. Excited children can still be heard in the background.]

  Pugnis in umbra! I just lost time because they thought they could catch me slipping. Not today, assholes. Not any day. You think you’re smarter than Thomas Grey? Get fucked, because you most certainly are not! I don’t care how learned you are.

  I’m learned too! I don’t need your liberal papers or your halls of learning dedicated to a fake god to be smart. I got the whole of the internet at my disposal, I can learn anything I want. I can know anything I want.

  Your last handhold of power is crumbling. I’m here for the whole fight and you had better get used to it. Come at me, I dare you. There’s enough guns on this farm where it doesn’t matter if I’m your intellectual superior or not.

  Speaking of things learned, I’m starting to see the pattern in the numbers, specifically in the number 15. On a surface level, that points to gaining material wealth; but you have to go deeper than that. You have to look at the second line, what 15 means as an angel number:

  It means new beginnings, another chance. That would be a great cover for them, but I think there’s a smokescreen here. You have to be really discerning when you do your research. I found that data on a Google search, who we all know is in the pocket of our corrupt government. With that being said, these sadists love to hang just a kernel of truth in front of us; meanings hidden within meanings. I think only part of that definition from the internet is actually true.

  And I figured out what part that is: a new beginning. I’m getting close to something now, I can feel it. It’s hard to block out my idiot sisters in the other room, their constant noise is an unwelcome distraction when I am getting so close to solving this. Pugnis in umbra, pugnis in umbra. I can feel the loss looming this time and I’m not having it.

  Pugnis in umbra.

  If the number 15 represents new beginnings and they are only hanging a kernel of truth in front of me. It’s all in new beginnings. They’re trying to reset me. They’re trying to reset me and get me in line. It’s probably a satellite or something, exploiting a weakness in my orgone shield. I’ve got to reassess my defenses.

  [During Speaker’s natural pause, the children can be heard loudly carrying on.]

  I wish they would shut up, I need to think and get these thoughts out before they shut me down and scrub me from the internet. This has to get out. I’m bleeding from the nose again, my knuckles are splitting and I can see the bones that the skin and muscles try to hide. They’re so white and shiny and it’s distracting me so I’m trying to fight through it. Trying to cut through the noise and get to the truth. It’s just so distracting. I’ve never been able to see my bones before.

  Holy shit: bones and skeleton. Death. It’s more proof that they’re acting on me right now, I’m recording live during an actual psi-op against me. This is fucking unheard of!

  I can see my bones. My bones make my skeleton. What does a skeleton represent on a tarot card? It’s death. What does death mean? Change. They’re not trying to reset me, they’re trying to change me. I know too much and they are trying to pull me over to the other side.

  Pugnis in umbra.

  Pugnis in umbra!

  Pugnis in umb…..

  [Speaker abruptly stops speaking. There is a brief pause, then he cries mournfully. Something rips, he cries and screams. There is the sound of a chair being knocked over, then screaming and terrible impacts. Three distinct (likely young female) parties scream for help, begging Speaker to stop.The last voice is heard sobbing, “Why Tommy?” before there is a harsh snapping noise and the room is quiet. Noted audio artifacts mentioned earlier in this transcript are absent. The room is silent, excluding heavy breathing and the sound of a chair being righted.]

  They got me. I wasn’t strong enough. Fifteen minutes and fifteen seconds was all it took. I must have fought off the change, because I’m still here. My knucklebones are exposed and jagged, they aren’t that perfect shiny white anymore. They look like teeth. They’re dirty now, speckled with blood, mountains of murder that erupted from my hands.

  My sisters are dead and it still hasn’t made them quiet. I can hear them in the shadows of my ear canal, begging harder and harder for me to carry them back to the light of Our God. They’re grateful, at least. They can think on their own for the first time, now that they live in my head.

  I never expected my crusade to give me this kind of joy. I knew that raising people up would change my life, but not like this. There is a rush flowing through my veins, a divine purpose instilled in me by Our God and my sisters are the choir that will sing my accolades. Ma and pa will never understand. They will just have to do what I did; sort out the path of edification from the mess that was left by their three little girls being freed from caskets of sin that held them captive.

  My time has come. I must return to Bobcat Mountain, where I will sit at the right hand of Father Darnette and extend my right hand to Claudia Aleston.

  After all, there is no number more powerful than the number three.