After school one day in 1959 my father started choking flogging and bashing me, I began to black out and knew he was killing me, I landed a left to his face, and felt a squishing sensation as I landed a right to his gob area and kicked him, no use blackout, coming around I could not move or shake off the blackness and blacked out again.
Like walking thru a stage curtain I stepped onto a path of white decomposed granite edged with gray blue stone, the path was undulating between hills of cotton wool texture, along came a man leading a horse, I asked if he knew where the path led and he assured me he did.
I waited for him to move off planning to make my own way when he told me he had come for me, I told him I thought I would have to go back, he glanced in the direction I came from and said I won't be going back, which was great news to me and brightened me up considerably.
I asked if it was his horse and did it have a name, he told me it was his and his name is Bukephalus, after a little more chit chat he lifted me up onto the horse who he told me, would take me the rest of the way, before I took off on the horse I remembered to ask him his name he said, "Ah-Leg-Xander" I asked him to take it slower he said, "Alexander."
The horse took me slowly at first then at a full gallop me hanging on to its mane, along the path which ended at a pair of open arched gates, framed by the same pearl blue gray stone that had bordered the path, here the horse indicated I should dismount and as he galloped back so did the path recede with him.
The gates appeared to be floating in space like the door drifting in space in the TV series The Twilight Zone, the outer view was as for a winter's night, the stars of the Milky Way and the constellation Sagittarius, one star appeared to be moving and resolved into the figure of a man striding along a path similar to the one I had been on.
He was middle height aged in his early twenties with light olive skin and dark hair, with a light beard and long legs, he was attired similar to Alexander in a home spun smock affair tied at the waist and sandals .. Pisces, he drew near and said "Martin I'm Jesus," he gestured with his right hand down and to his right.
My gaze following his gesture, I saw my body on the floor of the bedroom I shared with my brother, Mother had just walked into the room and had seen my body and was screaming the house down, like making a performance, shrieking, Jesus said "you can stay with me or you can go back."
I said "I will go back," then instead of looking at him I was looking at the gray linoleum on the bedroom floor, I was pushing myself up on to my hands when Mother came in, she looked at me then walked out without saying anything, then Father came in and did the same.
Things stayed about the same, maybe nine days later both parents got stuck into me again, with Mother urging him on to batter me at eight years of age .. later that year he would present me with the bodies of aborted twins to dispose of in a backyard incinerator, I had spoken up in their favor when Mother announced she was off to have an abortion.
After this flogging I am lying in bed when I hear a voice calling my name ..Martin, I did not answer, again I hear my name called and again I don't answer, he calls my name again "Martin," I said "who's that," he said "God," the next night the same voice as the previous night calls "Martin."
I said ..you said you were God,
He said ..I am.
I said ..you're God,
He said ..yes.
I said ..you are actually God,
He said ..yes.
I said ..I hear voices all the time, they are not God,
He said ..no, they're not,
I said ..but you are,
He said ..yes.
I form an image in my mind of a large sweeping bay of white sand beaches near home, I ask if he knows how many grains of sand there are, he tells me he does, I pick up a handful of sand and tell him that I have the same problem of being unable to check, then telling him not to look, separate three grains between thumb and forefinger and ask "how many," he says "three," I tell him ok I believe he is God.
I ask him if he knows everything he said he does, I say "if there was something that you did not know, you would not know you did not know it, so you should not say that you know everything," he says he knows that too, I said "you know there is nothing you do not know," he said "yes," I said "sure."
He asked me if I wanted to know anything, I ask if there is a Hell, he said there is then asks if there was anything at all that he could do for me, I tell him I would like a guided tour of Hell please, he said "sure are you right," I said "are we going right away," he said we were. It was dark like it was night time..
From where his voice was coming there just seemed to be a mist of grainy gold light, he went before me and the wall of the house just seemed to be gone, my spirit body astral body if you will, just followed his light, for a moment I saw the outside of the house illuminated by a street light in the rain, then we were aloft and into the clouds and total blackness.
After maybe forty seconds there was a light .. I said "I can see a light," he said "that's where we are going and I want to see a good landing," the light resolved into the figure of a man, picture the great athlete from the world of pro wrestling in the 1980's King Kong Bundy, that's what this guy looked like.
He wore a full length gown of some brown material over a white full length smock affair, Allah said "this is Philemon he will be your guide," Philemon is the warden of Hell, I stood still while he received his instructions facing the light, he is a big guy and pale green light shone from his person, he nodded a couple of times and spoke.
The golden light of Allah faded and the big guy turned to me, we appeared to be standing in the pool of his light on a vast stone plain, bare rock and blackness beyond, he said "when you came here you just came through the air right," I said yes I had, he said "this is just the same watch," and he just walks out off of a precipice into a vast abyss.
Hanging there in mid air he says "come on out," out I go and standing beside him see that we are standing unsupported a couple of meters from the cliff edge, he starts talking to the stone, while the figure of a man resolves among the cracks and ledges at the cliff top, Philemon tells me that this is another of the guards of Hell, whose instructions are that I should pass.
He said "we are going down," like being in an elevator down we went, down into Hell, we were going down a long way black stone all the way, I began to wonder if there was ever going to be a bottom, when in the gloom one perceived Gothic arches, tombs in various stages of construction eight or nine in number, some firmly chiseled giving the appearance of dressed stone, others mere outlines carved into the rock.
We had passed the overhang of a vast cavern, our descent had slowed the ghastly figure of a human being, blue white skin stretched over bones, shrouded by a mist of fine white hair, crouched chipping stone with a crude mallet and chisel at the entrance to one of the tombs, flees shrieking into its interior at our vertical approach.
Then landing at the top of a steep narrow path beside terraces carved into the rock, on the upper terrace twenty two crouching figures, like hologram images their human features become the features and visages of eagles .. proceeding down the path the terraces on our left under the overhanging roof and into the cave.
The terrace below had one hundred and nineteen similar figures, representing lesser raptors, hawks and kites, similarly changing appearance from bird to man, one is blind, and there is the mummified body of a man, who appears to have been felled by a sword stroke to his left knee, then finished off with a sword thrust thru his left eye exiting the back of his head.
On another terrace below almost hidden in the gloom seven or eight figures, smooth and rounded like stones in a stream bed, some fairly large, man sized, some smaller, we take a few more steps down and along the path, and reach a landing, there are crouching figures below and ahead, Philemon turns to me and says, "this is Hell, of all who have entered here, none have left."
We were standing beside the top of a circular pit, no more that ten meters in diameter, with the crouching figures of one hundred and twenty two comely blue green winged creatures, attending them are two hideous demons, one in human form though scaled like a snake, the other a small black figure with short thick bat like wings.
To our front the wall falls away, and there dejected amid his defeated company is Satan, crouched, his left arm stretched around his drawn up left knee, cradling his right arm and shattered right shoulder, his right leg amputated high up, a portion of bone sticking out of the raw stump like a leg roast in a butcher's window.
A small quantity of dark green blood pooled on the stone below the wound .. past him an agglomeration of three hundred and twenty nine human figures, their group profile suggesting the arboreal physiognomy of a low sturdy powerful tree, its leaves and branches the heads faces and limbs of the fallen, these are the recidivists of Hell.
A straight line catches one's eye on the opposite wall further in past the tombs, a low stone shelter maybe four meters long though only a meter or so high, and twelve hundred mm wide is built onto the almost vertical slope, this is the dwelling of Chablis the Devil of the Darkness.
Higher the slope levels out, and one can perceive in the gloom what looks like a hospital bed with two demon attendants, themselves attended by the green, glowing bearded human figure, of another of the guards of Hell, past them beyond the entrance to another cavern, faintly illuminated in pale phosphorescence the dark billows and strong current of an underground river.
Edited by Martin Timothy, 14 May 2014 - 08:10 AM.