It Took Billy
Page 7
What is he going to do with me now that he knows I know the truth?
Yup, I’m a dead man.
The Chamber
Chaos has not come back to the chamber in such a long time. Where is he? Is this my punishment, to be left alone to rot?
What is he doing? Is he with those people who were working on the computers? Why do they get to be around him, and I don’t?
I need more bread; my hands are shaking.
The Chamber
Chaos finally came to see me. I wasn’t even startled when I woke up to find him standing in front of me. I was happy to see him. I gratefully consumed the new honey bread and water he had brought me, and eagerly walked toward him when he gestured for me to do so.
It was then that Chaos grabbed both my hands and stared into my eyes. His skin felt like fire, and as I locked into his ancient gaze, he revealed everything that I wanted to know, and answered all my questions. I now know the part I had to play in all this, and it’s even more horrible than I ever thought possible.
Staring into his indifferent eyes, I felt his thoughts merging with my own. All this time, I thought I had been abducted at random. It turns out, that was not the case at all.
The demon, as it turns out, had targeted me. To my utter shock, he also let me know that he had purposely revealed the true story of the five sisters to me. He knew exactly what I had seen during Lenaru’s ritual and had planned it from the beginning.
I was chosen for several reasons. As an individual, I am painfully average, which is exactly what Chaos wanted. Also, ever since I was able, I have always written in a journal. Now, these two things are secondary to the most important factor about me: my father.
Chaos has had a big plan all along. He wanted me to chronicle, in my average, easy to understand language, what it was like to be assimilated into his cult. A cult that reveres the hate, bitterness, and pettiness of the five sisters—according to his fake story of what happened to Lenaru. He wanted me to write down everything I saw, which I did. He even set up the five elaborate rituals in the sister’s names, so I would journal the supernatural experience. He could have easily just captured me and forced me to write down whatever he wanted, in my handwriting, but he preferred the descriptions and writing style to be authentic. This was not just for the public, but for my father as well, who knows how I write, and would have known if what I was writing was not genuine. It all had to be real to me. Besides, with his power, setting up the elaborate rituals was easy for him.
Chaos knew that the “glamorized” experience of the rituals would be an enticing read, and he did that specifically to attract, entice, and capture the imagination of future cultists. And once it was all written down, Chaos stole my journal, and photographed every page of it. Why? So that all the cultists I saw in front of the computers could put it all over the internet.
As the demon continued to reveal his plan to me, I felt as the heat from his hands burned into my skin.
Since the advent of the internet, the demon has always used it to gain new recruits for his cult for the evil sisters. Recently, he had hatched a new plan. He abducted me, the son of a world-famous novelist, for a very specific reason. My father already has a worldwide readership in the millions.
Chaos’s plan was simple. After I had disappeared for a while and he had my journal scanned into his computers—so it would show everyone that it was all in my own handwriting—he would leave the original journal where the police could find it. I could see in his mind that he plans to leave the journal in a hollow tree trunk near the cabin where my father and I were staying. Then he’s going to anonymously let the police know where it is. Chaos ripped out the pages from the first half of the journal so that the entries would begin right when I started really mentioning him. It was nothing more than an editing job, to remove my mundane entries that had nothing to do with my experience with him.
The finding of a journal from the missing son of a world-famous writer would definitely make the news, and if it didn’t, the hundreds of cultists in front of their computers would make sure that scans of the journal would be leaked to every major news source—television, print, radio, everything—as well as appear on every form of social media available. The cultists, not only the few hundred located here, but also from the many, many different cult locations around the world, would then spread the rumors that somehow my dad was involved in my disappearance, and that the journal sounded like one of the storylines of his novels. An absurd rumor, but that’s exactly what Chaos wanted. People would read the scanned journal on social media and see and hear about it all over the news, TV, and radio. Also, the huge worldwide readership of my father would make sure to read every page of the journal, greedy and curious about what it would tell them about their favorite author. The followers of an actor or politician would not necessarily bother to read a whole book, no matter what it had to do with their idol. But an already established readership would make sure to read every page of something their literary figurehead was connected to—especially if it involved a missing son. And that was the main point—the journal must be read. The combination of official police reports, scans of the handwritten journal, news coverage, a curious readership in the millions, and a constant social media and internet barrage, would all lead up to a very potent combination.
Now here is where it gets truly interesting. After all the cultists make sure that the journal gets as much exposure as possible, Chaos and his minions would start an organization praising the real story of the five sisters, a peaceful group hailing their courage, sacrifice, and strength. This is why he also showed me the real story of the sisters, and why I wasn’t seeing the true events from Chaos’s eyes and perspective, as I should have, since he was actually there. He also wanted me to see the part he had to play in everything; so instead, he made me see the whole thing like I was a spectator watching a movie. Anyway, the same cultists of hate would then use every resource possible to recruit followers into this peaceful organization that would hail the sisters as heroes. Chaos, however, would be in charge of this organization as well. His minions would recruit as many new members as possible, whether they were attracted to the dark cult praising the fake sisters’ story of hate, cruelty, and bitterness. Or whether they were attracted to the “peaceful” organization, hailing the sisters’ true story of love, sacrifice, and strength. Whatever type of follower they chose to be—worshippers of the cruel seasons, or followers of the loving sisters, interested only in doing good, charitable work—they would still be under Chaos’s control. He would make sure that his dark cult, and his organization praising the sisters’ true story, would become bitter enemies. He would make sure that both organizations would hate each other and fight each other to the bitter end. And the result would end up being exactly what he wanted from the very beginning—pain and suffering carried out in the sisters’ names.
As I continued to stare into those ancient eyes, I understood the truly brazen quality of Chaos’s plan. He knows I’m going to write this all down—his plans of the leaked, scanned journal, and his plans of controlling the two separate cults. I could see in his thoughts, that after I write even more entries to his satisfaction, he’s planning to once again take my journal, scan the final pages, and then take it to the chosen tree, where one of his cult members would then tip the police off about where to find it.
Chaos knows that his plan—and that me revealing the truth of his plan—will work. He understands people, and he knows what many of them have become. The truth doesn’t really matter anymore. Most people will not care that the same journal they are reading, is also spelling out exactly how they are being manipulated. So many people simply want to be distracted. They have become so lost and jaded, that they simply want to be entertained, and told what to believe. Chaos is clearly spelling out what he wants people to do. He’s letting the world know that both cults—whether you prefer the “good” one, or the “bad” one—are now recruiting. He’s telling all the lost people of the w
orld, that regardless of their preferences for good or evil, they have a place with him. So many who feel hopeless and alone, are completely susceptible to being told what to think, and what to believe. It’s all publicity, and this time, Chaos is laying all his cards on the table.
Over the centuries, Chaos has seen how the world has changed, and how it has stayed the same. The truth can be right in front of you, and no one will care. Knowing the truth will not stop anyone from choosing to destroy themselves. Chaos sees people like this as empty shells, waiting to be filled. The truth will be dismissed. It will be ignored. It will be explained away. It will be outshined by glamour and sheer volume. And all the while, the demon will get what he wants.
As Chaos released my hands, I felt both relieved, and cursed. I was relieved that my hands no longer felt like they were burning, and the pain that had been shooting through them had finally ceased. But at the same time, I did not want Chaos to let go. I wanted to stay in his immortal mind and continue experiencing the waves of energy that I felt there.
I wanted to know more. I wanted to understand more of his plans. And more than anything else, I wanted to be attached to the unbelievable power that radiated from his being.
The Chamber
Despite the clarity of my last entry, I now find that my own thoughts are tangled and confusing to me. Is Chaos granting me the ability to recollect what he chooses to show me, but nothing else?
No matter what I feel about what Chaos has revealed to me, this journal has already been scanned, and although his task is not yet complete, the damage is already done.
The obvious thought that keeps popping into my head, is to simply throw the journal into the fire in front of me. It would at least make a dent in Chaos’s plans. If this original notebook is destroyed, all of what I’ve recently written will be lost as well, since it hasn’t been scanned yet. Also, there will be nothing for the police to find, and the entire endeavor will lose credibility.
But even as I write this, I’m already trembling at the thought of destroying my journal. It has, in all ways, become a lifeline for me. It’s helped me hold on to my sanity. The thought of destroying it is actually painful to me. Not to mention what will probably be done to me if I do it.
Also…I don’t want to burn it, because I know it will disappoint Chaos. He trusted me with his plans, and I don’t want to let him down.
I suppose I could try to escape or try to get to one of the computers. But even if I could somehow get through all the bolted doors and gates—which I can’t—how would I get by all those people? They wouldn’t do anything that might upset Chaos, and frankly, neither would I.
At least when the already scanned part of the journal is made public, Dad and Aunt Jeanne will know what happened to me. At least they won’t be left wondering. So that’s good.
Maybe if I just ask Chaos, he’ll know what to do. Is that crazy?
After all, he revealed everything to me. I can trust him.
The Chamber
I just reread my last entry and cannot believe what I wrote down. Of course, I cannot trust Chaos! What’s wrong with me? I seem to be having lapses in judgment and perspective. I’m not sure what’s happening. Ever since Chaos grabbed my hands, and revealed his plans to me, my mind seems to have somehow broken.
But I have to focus. I need to focus.
I tried, several times, to throw this journal into the fire—but I just could not do it. Not having anywhere to write my thoughts in, is something I cannot deal with right now.
With time, I might be able to burn this notebook. I have to think of all the people that will be hurt if Chaos’s plans succeed.
I have to destroy the journal for them.
The Chamber
I know I’m being selfish, but I can’t seem to do it. I cannot throw the journal into the fire. Maybe there’s another way?
I woke up to more honey bread and water next to the fire. I quickly devoured all of it. Although I am grateful to Chaos for the food, I know that he could have easily taken the journal while I slept and carried out his plan. He trusts me. Maybe if I burn the old pages, but keep the blank ones, so I can still keep writing? No, most of the notebook has already been scanned. Any new pages I write could just be used as more evidence. Everything must be burned and nothing new written, so that the police will have nothing to find. So that there is no actual evidence for a police report.
Maybe I could just write in code. Code that only Chaos and I would understand. That way, he’ll be pleased with my work, but I’ll still stop his plans.
The Chamber
I reread my last entry. It did not even make sense. I’m slowly, but surely, losing my mind.
I need to think of a way to escape.
The Chamber
I need to see Chaos. Where is he? I need to talk about my new code. If I write my entries in code, it will please him. I know it will.
The Chamber
Those other followers in front of the computers are plotting against me. They’re jealous of how close I am to Chaos. After all, no one else went through such elaborate rituals to worship the seasons. Those were made for me.
I’m working on the code; it’s going well.
I just realized…Chaos probably has many other powers. If I just think the thoughts that I want him to hear, I know he’ll understand. It’s like when he grabs my forehead.
The Chamber
I don’t think Chaos will like the code. I’ve changed it. He can read my thoughts anyway.
He is immortal power, and he’ll know I am loyal to him.
I am loyal.
Loyal. Loyal. Loyal. Loyal. I am Loyal.
The Chamber
The chamber, the chamber. Always in the chamber.
The Chamber
My name is Billy Ranter. My name is Billy Ranter. My name is Billy Ranter. My name is Billy Ranter. My name is Billy Ranter. My name is Billy Ranter. My name is Billy Ranter. My name is Billy Ranter. My name is Billy Ranter. My name is Billy Ranter. My name is Billy Ranter. My name is Billy Ranter. My name is Billy Ranter. My name is Billy Ranter. My name is Billy Ranter. My name is Billy Ranter. My name is Billy Ranter. My name is Billy Ranter. My name is Billy Ranter. My name is Billy
The Chamber
I need to see Chaos. I need to apologize for my thoughts. He keeps leaving me delicious fresh bread and cool water, and how do I thank him? By betraying him with my thoughts.
I need to kill my thoughts.
The Chamber
He can hear the fire.
He will be pleased.
The fire and the fire and fire
The Chamber
Chaos is in the chamber with me as I write this! All of a sudden, I’m filled with clarity! I’m filled with joy!
He’s waiting for me to finish writing this final entry. He’s going to take my journal, scan it, and then leave it in the tree near the cabin…blah, blah, blah.
At first, I was sad that I’d be losing my journal, but now I truly see the big picture. I’m honored, and grateful, for the part I have to play.
My thoughts are dead, the code is in place, and Chaos chose me! He could have chosen anyone, but he chose me! #blessed
Glory to The Chaos of the Five!
After Billy Ranter’s journal was found, it was heavily chronicled on all forms of mass media. The official police report, the widespread television and radio coverage, and a seemingly endless internet and social media barrage, resulted in the journal being widely read, and downloaded, by a massive readership. Two years after Billy Ranter’s journal was made public, another handwritten journal surfaced all over the internet.
A man named Michael wrote this new journal.
MAIN HALL: NIGHT
This journal is a true account of my experience with the cult that has become known as “The Chaos of the Five.” I am writing this to specifically shed a realistic light on this popularized organization. After my work here is complete, if I survive, this chronicle will be released to the public. My
name is Michael, and I am a mystic. I am part of a private group that tries to maintain this world’s natural order, focusing on what would be described as supernatural threats.
As I write this, I am in a large communal hall with stone walls, which I believe is one of, if not the main headquarters of the cult. Over a hundred new recruits are around me, many of them are also writing in the journals that the cult has provided. Since the immense popularity of Billy Ranter’s journal, my contacts were correct in informing me that it has become the norm for all cult members to now keep a notebook. I have gone to great lengths to place an enchantment on my journal, warding off anyone but myself from reading it. Naturally, the enchantment will be removed before the journal is made public—but that is getting ahead of myself.
As of now, it has been about two years since Billy’s journal was revealed to the world, and it pains me to admit that Chaos has achieved his desired goal. From what my sources have revealed to me, since the release of the journal, membership in the cult has grown exponentially. And although a rival group hailing the strength, courage, and sacrifice of the five seasons has formed, calling themselves “The Honor of the Five,” it’s rivalry with the original cult is also exactly what Chaos wanted. As Billy’s journal stated, Chaos is also believed to control this group as well.
Since my entries in this journal are specifically meant to be viewed by the public (and will eventually be directed toward the enormous, already established internet following of Billy Ranter’s journal), I will purposely not delve into certain topics that may compromise my group’s ability to protect this world. But to be clear, my team and I are staunch enemies of the being known as Chaos, and we have already tried, and failed, to stop his reign of terror several times. This journal, and my experience here, will deglamorize Chaos’s cult, and will hopefully show that this monster can be stopped. I believe that this time, due to several new factors, my group and I will succeed in thwarting him.