My Revelations
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My Revelations
There was a time between my escape from the compound and today I’m not proud of.
In my way, I’m still trying to pay my dues for the misdeeds I committed.
After I escaped I wandered a fair bit. I worked odd jobs; hitch hiked, and owned the clothes on my back and nothing else.
It was during that time I came into my calling.
It was also during that time I began serving my penance.
You see, growing up where I had, I didn’t really understand the way the world worked. I believed angels and demons were behind every action of me, and everyone else.
I got into a lot of fist fights with the other down and out people. I tried to tell myself I needed to beat the demons out of them so they could be productive – but really I was just a punk, angry at being separated from my friends and family and the only world I’d ever really known.
It was then that the demon found me.
The demon came in a bottle, or rather many bottles. What meager funds I could scrape together I gave over to the demon. I beat my fellow homeless in homage to the demon.
I finally hit rock bottom when I saw another bum approaching a little girl. In my clouded mind I envisioned he was a vampire, ready to pounce.
So I pounced him first.
When my brain turned back on, I was in the police station, ranting about demons while I was being indicted for attempted murder.
My lawyer decided to go for an insanity defense. The prosecution agreed so I could be institutionalized before I hurt anyone else.
It was in the institution that I met Gabrielle.
Gabrielle was a cast off. A severely disturbed girl who’s parents couldn’t put up with her any more and sent her to the institution.
She didn’t talk much . . . at least not to people anyway.
She did spend a lot of time talking to the ratty alley cat that she’d managed to coax in through a window one day.
The “doctors” recognized early on that I was dangerous. I was one of the more belligerent inmates. I was also fairly large and strong to back that up. What really scared them is the ease with which I picked up on things like security routines and tried to undermine the system.
This was because I’d studied under people who had endured the prisons run by the Japanese in WWII and the Vietnamese in the 60’s.
My rebellion had me on a short track for a “corrective procedure.”
But that’s when Gabrielle decided to talk to me.
Sort of.
“He’s not a crazy man Musta Fwuffahs, just sad.” She was talking directly at me, but the cat was between us.
“Poor man doesn’t know he’s not alone.”
I turned to her. I wasn’t sure what to say, for some reason, I couldn’t say anything.
“He doesn’t know what he’s s’pos’ta to do.”
Then she looked right at me. “Do you want to pet my kitty?”
It was almost like someone else was guiding me . . . I reached out and clumsily gave the mangy beast a pat on the head.
It was then that I stepped out of reality for a moment. I was outside, it was winter. The world was different, as near as I could tell; it was the future, the far future.
Gabrielle smiled at me, she was taller, stronger. Her eyes had changed from wild and uncomprehending to deep and wise.
“Why did you bring me here?” It was a dumb question, but I had to start somewhere.
“You grew up waiting for this. I am here to tell you that you can stop it from happening.”
“Stop what?”
It was then that the Apocalypse started. Flood and Fire, Snow and Ash, Hurricane and Earthquake all seemed to erupt at once. Reality itself flew apart and demons and devils of all kind stepped into the dieing world to rape and maim and pillage.
As I watched I wanted to scream but had no breath. I wanted to tear my eyes out but could not move. I watched the world end and fade into darkness.
Then I was back in the institution, holding a cat. Gabrielle looked at me. “You’ll take good care of Mustah Fwuffahs, won’t you? You pwomise not to let anything bad happen?”
I almost choked “I promise.”
She smiled at me then went back to her corner and started rocking.
Inside of me, for the first time in m life I had the answers to a lot of questions. For the first time I was thinking on my own. For the first time in my life, my eyes were open. For the first time in my life I wept.
It was several months before the doctors, amazed at my transformation, agreed to let me go.
As soon as I was out, with Mr. Fluffers in tow, I started my crusade to get rid of the real monsters before they could take the world to the dark future I had seen. It’s been 8 years since, and I have never looked back except to remind myself why.
I go and visit Gabrielle form time to time. She still doesn’t talk to me, but she will occasionally say something important to Mr. Fluffers.
I hope I can get her out of that place someday, but I can’t care for her on my own.
I hope each of you can meet your own Gabrielle.
Have a happy holiday.
In my way, I’m still trying to pay my dues for the misdeeds I committed.
After I escaped I wandered a fair bit. I worked odd jobs; hitch hiked, and owned the clothes on my back and nothing else.
It was during that time I came into my calling.
It was also during that time I began serving my penance.
You see, growing up where I had, I didn’t really understand the way the world worked. I believed angels and demons were behind every action of me, and everyone else.
I got into a lot of fist fights with the other down and out people. I tried to tell myself I needed to beat the demons out of them so they could be productive – but really I was just a punk, angry at being separated from my friends and family and the only world I’d ever really known.
It was then that the demon found me.
The demon came in a bottle, or rather many bottles. What meager funds I could scrape together I gave over to the demon. I beat my fellow homeless in homage to the demon.
I finally hit rock bottom when I saw another bum approaching a little girl. In my clouded mind I envisioned he was a vampire, ready to pounce.
So I pounced him first.
When my brain turned back on, I was in the police station, ranting about demons while I was being indicted for attempted murder.
My lawyer decided to go for an insanity defense. The prosecution agreed so I could be institutionalized before I hurt anyone else.
It was in the institution that I met Gabrielle.
Gabrielle was a cast off. A severely disturbed girl who’s parents couldn’t put up with her any more and sent her to the institution.
She didn’t talk much . . . at least not to people anyway.
She did spend a lot of time talking to the ratty alley cat that she’d managed to coax in through a window one day.
The “doctors” recognized early on that I was dangerous. I was one of the more belligerent inmates. I was also fairly large and strong to back that up. What really scared them is the ease with which I picked up on things like security routines and tried to undermine the system.
This was because I’d studied under people who had endured the prisons run by the Japanese in WWII and the Vietnamese in the 60’s.
My rebellion had me on a short track for a “corrective procedure.”
But that’s when Gabrielle decided to talk to me.
Sort of.
“He’s not a crazy man Musta Fwuffahs, just sad.” She was talking directly at me, but the cat was between us.
“Poor man doesn’t know he’s not alone.”
I turned to her. I wasn’t sure what to say, for some reason, I couldn’t say anything.
“He doesn’t know what he’s s’pos’ta to do.”
Then she looked right at me. “Do you want to pet my kitty?”
It was almost like someone else was guiding me . . . I reached out and clumsily gave the mangy beast a pat on the head.
It was then that I stepped out of reality for a moment. I was outside, it was winter. The world was different, as near as I could tell; it was the future, the far future.
Gabrielle smiled at me, she was taller, stronger. Her eyes had changed from wild and uncomprehending to deep and wise.
“Why did you bring me here?” It was a dumb question, but I had to start somewhere.
“You grew up waiting for this. I am here to tell you that you can stop it from happening.”
“Stop what?”
It was then that the Apocalypse started. Flood and Fire, Snow and Ash, Hurricane and Earthquake all seemed to erupt at once. Reality itself flew apart and demons and devils of all kind stepped into the dieing world to rape and maim and pillage.
As I watched I wanted to scream but had no breath. I wanted to tear my eyes out but could not move. I watched the world end and fade into darkness.
Then I was back in the institution, holding a cat. Gabrielle looked at me. “You’ll take good care of Mustah Fwuffahs, won’t you? You pwomise not to let anything bad happen?”
I almost choked “I promise.”
She smiled at me then went back to her corner and started rocking.
Inside of me, for the first time in m life I had the answers to a lot of questions. For the first time I was thinking on my own. For the first time in my life, my eyes were open. For the first time in my life I wept.
It was several months before the doctors, amazed at my transformation, agreed to let me go.
As soon as I was out, with Mr. Fluffers in tow, I started my crusade to get rid of the real monsters before they could take the world to the dark future I had seen. It’s been 8 years since, and I have never looked back except to remind myself why.
I go and visit Gabrielle form time to time. She still doesn’t talk to me, but she will occasionally say something important to Mr. Fluffers.
I hope I can get her out of that place someday, but I can’t care for her on my own.
I hope each of you can meet your own Gabrielle.
Have a happy holiday.
Last edited by Ron Caliburn on Wed Oct 29, 2008 10:12 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Gabrielle needs constant care and supervision. She spends most of her time huddled and rocking, but she'll occasionally have an episode where she breaks everything in sight.
She needs to be fed from a tube and have her diaper changed several times a day.
As much as I despise that institution, I just couldn't take care of her.
I'm not sure I could take care of Rhonda all that well either, but at least she knows how to take care of herself if I can't come home for a day or 3.
She needs to be fed from a tube and have her diaper changed several times a day.
As much as I despise that institution, I just couldn't take care of her.
I'm not sure I could take care of Rhonda all that well either, but at least she knows how to take care of herself if I can't come home for a day or 3.
Last edited by Ron Caliburn on Tue Jan 19, 2010 10:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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It was going okay, until things got diverted by the situation in Maine.
In the meantime I'm just doing what I always do - keep these streets safe as I can
In the meantime I'm just doing what I always do - keep these streets safe as I can
Last edited by Ron Caliburn on Sun Sep 16, 2007 11:02 am, edited 1 time in total.
I hear ya...
5 or so more days. If things in Maine haven't come to a satisfactory end by then, I have a ritual in store that should take care of pretty much everything.
One of my contacts helped me put it together. It's a doozy of a summoning, and I may need a lot of energy from folks here in the boards, but it should cleansweep pretty much everything.
So how close are we talking about getting Rhonda out? 'Cuz it's already getting uncomfortably close to Christmas...
5 or so more days. If things in Maine haven't come to a satisfactory end by then, I have a ritual in store that should take care of pretty much everything.
One of my contacts helped me put it together. It's a doozy of a summoning, and I may need a lot of energy from folks here in the boards, but it should cleansweep pretty much everything.
So how close are we talking about getting Rhonda out? 'Cuz it's already getting uncomfortably close to Christmas...
I am not A bitch...I am THE bitch. And to you, I'm MS Bitch.
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That thing that crawled from Rhonda's dreams and into mine invoked two parts of my tale here. The fight with the bum in the graveyard on Christmas Eve and Gabrielle showing me what would happen if I didn't step up and help now.
It's frightening how it can just pick stuff out of my brain like that.
I've been having a lot of dreams about my past, people I've met, that sort of thing. I wonder if it is directing my dreams, making me show it what it wants to know.
I wish I could have gotten some answers out of Gabrielle when I visited her yesterday, but she only ever addressed Mr. Fluffers as usual.
It's frightening how it can just pick stuff out of my brain like that.
I've been having a lot of dreams about my past, people I've met, that sort of thing. I wonder if it is directing my dreams, making me show it what it wants to know.
I wish I could have gotten some answers out of Gabrielle when I visited her yesterday, but she only ever addressed Mr. Fluffers as usual.
Last edited by Ron Caliburn on Tue Jan 19, 2010 10:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Autistic
Sounds like an Autistic Savant you have there, Ron. She'd be handy to have when stuff like Unbelievable comes calling. I know that sounds like I'm talking about making her into a weapon, but perhaps... that isn't such a bad thing. Most Autistic savants happen to be supernatural warriors that are almost unparalleled. *sighs*
Secrets and secrets, truth and lies, but which is which? Not knowing is the way to die.
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Bait
Agreed. It was just a possibility that I felt compelled to mention. Really and truly no innocent should be put in the line of fire to help us 'crazy' good o' boys in the line of duty. I don't really even think using a willing person as bait is acceptable either.
Secrets and secrets, truth and lies, but which is which? Not knowing is the way to die.
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I knew the place was full of quacks before, but Rose, well Rose would like to see the place closed down after what she saw.
She didn't find anything out of the ordinary (relatively speaking) about Gabrielle. She's a "normal" low functioning individual. No special powers or anything like that detected.
She didn't find anything out of the ordinary (relatively speaking) about Gabrielle. She's a "normal" low functioning individual. No special powers or anything like that detected.
Last edited by Ron Caliburn on Tue Jan 19, 2010 10:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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I'd like to visit her, myself. There's a chance she may be a mystic or a savant, and if that's the case, she'll fly under the radar of most psychics and mages. With what you detailed about the vision she sent you when she addressed you directly, I'd like to find out.
If she is, my contacts can put her in a home where she can get more help (and in turn be of more help) than she's getting in the asylum. They said it's just a matter of getting the transfer papers, and there's a psychic social worker they know who might just be able to reach her, and to help her develop her abilities.
If she's not...well, she's beyond my help in that case, but it never hurts to check, right?
If she is, my contacts can put her in a home where she can get more help (and in turn be of more help) than she's getting in the asylum. They said it's just a matter of getting the transfer papers, and there's a psychic social worker they know who might just be able to reach her, and to help her develop her abilities.
If she's not...well, she's beyond my help in that case, but it never hurts to check, right?
I am not A bitch...I am THE bitch. And to you, I'm MS Bitch.
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Not that I'm an expert or even remotely knowledgeable about such things, but from what Ron said earlier it sounds like the poor girl is locked within her own mind. I wonder if a talented psychic wouldn't be able to reach her and maybe by some miracle snap her into reality.
Dym, Ваша боль будет вечна
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Any help that can be had for her, I'd appreciate. I always new that place was bad, but Rose seems to think the 19th century Sanitariums were more humane.
Last edited by Ron Caliburn on Tue Jan 19, 2010 10:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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In that case, I'll have my people start working on the paperwork ASAP.
They'll need info; Ron, do you have a fax number? They'll send over the forms, and you can fill out as much as you can, and talk to them about the rest.
One of my sources happens to be a lawyer...who also happens to be a sorceror when the need arises. The social worker I mentioned before uses her psychic abilities to help kids diagnosed with autism and ADHD to find ways to come out of their shells and start communicating with the world around them. They've both worked miracles in their time.
How I stumbled upon them is a terribly long story, but it involves a local college. 'Nuff said.
They'll need info; Ron, do you have a fax number? They'll send over the forms, and you can fill out as much as you can, and talk to them about the rest.
One of my sources happens to be a lawyer...who also happens to be a sorceror when the need arises. The social worker I mentioned before uses her psychic abilities to help kids diagnosed with autism and ADHD to find ways to come out of their shells and start communicating with the world around them. They've both worked miracles in their time.
How I stumbled upon them is a terribly long story, but it involves a local college. 'Nuff said.
I am not A bitch...I am THE bitch. And to you, I'm MS Bitch.
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When it rains, man... It's always like this. Incidentally, in a hopefully-unrelated thread, this guy has brought up and been talking about a virus that attacks everything, paranormal and mundane alike. A cult was looking to buy it. Does it sound like something your family's cult would take an interest in?
Anywho, the fax number has been forwarded, and you should have that paperwork in a matter of hours, if not minutes.
Anywho, the fax number has been forwarded, and you should have that paperwork in a matter of hours, if not minutes.
I am not A bitch...I am THE bitch. And to you, I'm MS Bitch.
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My family is not interested in causing the Apocalypse, just winning when it happens.
Last edited by Ron Caliburn on Tue Jan 19, 2010 10:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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