Satanic Rites

I went to a rock festival with my ex-boyfriend Phillip. The festival was in an enormous area separated from the rest of the city by a great river or lake near the ocean – the only way to access the festival site was by taking a huge turn with the car or, more quickly, taking a boat from the small harbor in the city. The harbor was a kind of pier or wharf for medium to small sized vessels, and it stretched itself for some meters. It was a picturesque and calm place, perfect for spending some hours observing the coming and going of the clear blue waters, the sound of the seabirds, the dim and blurry horizon in shades of orange and pink in the distance, the soft mixture of the urban and coastal landscapes.

Phillip and I went to the festival booth to buy tickets and organize our accommodations. I was pregnant and couldn’t camp locally as most of the festival goers would, for it would be too uncomfortable. Despite the fact that I couldn’t drink or participate in orgies or whatever other crazy thing the festival goes would do, I really wanted to see the concerts, talk and make merry with the participants of the festival – which were a blend of musicians, heavy metal lovers, the maladjusted of various kinds, and beer fanatics. The event would, in fact, combine gigs from famous metal bands (thrash, death, folk) and several local craft breweries.

We bought our tickets and found many old acquaintances already preparing themselves for the festivities, setting up tents at the immense outdoor pavilion that stretched itself in front of the food and drink stands and kiosks. The stages were small, under white awnings and not very elevated. After talking a little to the people who were there, and seeing how drunk and drugged they already were, I wasn’t willing to utilize the facility’s available accommodations anymore, even though I really wanted to see the concerts. That’s when I remembered my mother had an apartment in the city and that it would be much safer and comfortable, though, for us to lodge with her.

Phillip and I went, then, to her apartment. It was small, but very comfortable, and my mother was very happy to see and receive us. The only problem was the distance to the great pavilion where the gigs were held. From my mother’s house, it would take some time to get there in usual circumstances; with the festival and the consecutive rise in traffic, we could already count on a longer period for getting there. We would have to leave even earlier than usual so that we didn’t miss the most awaited gigs.

Finally, we arrived at the festival. It was already dark, but the liveliness and happiness was contagious. A band started to play – it was a classic thrash metal band that would make anyone bang their heads to the rhythm, go off kicking shins and want to start a fight. But I had to think of my baby, and I didn’t do any of that – though I really felt like it. Phillip had gone off to drink with his friends, but as I had found a group of women who seemed nice, I didn’t care much about it. The women were not smoking or drinking in excess, and they hadn’t used drugs, apparently. But one of them was a priestess of Lucifer and she promised to help me find a husband. She had a small figure similar to Saint Antony, but it was in fact an image of a nun holding delicate white and pale pink flowers, like lilies. The priestess ordered the figure that it give me a husband, and to make sure it would obey, she twisted a piece of thread around the neck of the nun, tightened it, and then twisted another one around the image’s feet, hanging it upside down. The nun figure, however, moved and came back to its original position standing up – it was still holding the flowers, while the priestess had ordered it to let the flowers go.

The nun seemed very reluctant in obeying the priestess. I was afraid of the powers we might have unleashed in that moment, but the satanic priestess was not. She, on the contrary, was determined to subjugate the holy nun figure by the powers of the Devil. She started speaking in Latin in a hoarse, deep voice, very unlike her normal one, as if possessed – and with that, the nun figure moved, the white and pale pink flowers became black and withered, the lights went off, the sky closed itself in thunder and lightning, the wind threw over chairs and tables, tents and stands, and I was terrified and screamed and I shrank and hid myself.

As fast as it had begun, the phenomenon stopped. The nun figure went back to normal, but I was still very frightened. Lucifer’s priestess was, however, very calm and composed – she smiled and her face was bright. She guaranteed to me that the Devil was on my side and would help me, and that I didn’t need to be afraid because everything would work out fine. In this moment, Phillip showed up and took me away from there – worried about me and the baby, I thought that maybe he would be the husband Satan had found for me. This perception gave me piece of mind, because I saw that my mother wanted the same thing, and I thought it wasn’t important if God or Lucifer had interceded on my behalf, as long as someone cared about me enough and had the power to cause thunder and lightning like it had happened when the priestess performed her ritual. This power had acted in material reality and it was on my side.

So much so that, with time, Phillip seemed to attach himself more and more to me and my baby, and finally, he made it clear with a formal proposal. The great mystery was, however, the identity of the father of the baby. I never got to find out.

Published by The Famous Warrior

one who dreams

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