Lifting the Curse, Part I: A New Dawn

by Konstantine

  John replied and told him he was happy to talk on Yahoo messenger. They soon continued the conversation there.

  Truthwarrior90: hi Otto, thank you for the kind words. what do you have for me?

  Otto87: Top secret information that was obtained at great cost. It’s the real deal. I need to get it out to the public and I have chosen you for the job

  Truthwarrior90: why me??

  Otto87: Because you’re on the right track. You understand what’s really going on

  Truthwarrior90: how do i know ur for real tho? if i had a dime for every person that emailed me telling me they’re a genuine insider…

  Otto87: Please, I’m not one of those. A man died to get this information to me! I am also putting myself in danger just by talking to you. This is very serious

  Truthwarrior90: ok, let’s say i believe you. what does this information pertain to?

  Otto87: It’s difficult to say, since it’s coded. But I know part of it has to do with secret underground bases, alien-human cloning, etc

  Truthwarrior90: jesus! you’re talking about DUMBs35 aren’t you?

  Otto87: Yes. And, if this info gets out to the public, they are finished!

  Truthwarrior90: who are “they” exactly??

  Otto87: Must we really play this game? You know who they are. The ones you’ve wanted to expose for years now

  Truthwarrior90: the illuminati!

  Otto87: Of course. The rabbit hole goes deeper than you can possibly imagine, however

  Truthwarrior90: oh, i have quite a vivid imagination

  Otto87: When you see what I have to show you, you will understand what I mean

  Truthwarrior90: speaking of which, how will you give me the documents, or whatever it is u wanna give me?

  Otto87: I am coming to the US in 2 days. I’ve already booked a flight; I’ll be at JFK early Sunday morning. When can we meet?

  Truthwarrior90: wow, youre not playin around. i guess anytime after 10 am is good for me

  Otto87: What about midday then? It needs to be in a public place obviously

  Truthwarrior90: sure, works for me. i don’t live too far from jfk actually, and i wouldnt mind going for a sunday morning ride. how bout we meet somewhere halfway? if you get on NY 27 and head east, there’s a diner a few miles before the meadowbrook state parkway intersection, called dominoes. you cant miss it

  Otto87: I’ll be there!

  Truthwarrior90: so how will i recognize you?

  Otto87: I’ll email you just before I arrive and let you know

  Truthwarrior90: alright but fb is easier. my fb name is JC Truthwarrior

  Otto87: okay. I’ll send you a friend request a little later. See you in a couple of days

  Truthwarrior90: bye

 

  John wondered whether or not this person was genuine. Either way, he had to satisfy his curiosity now, so he wanted to meet him and see what would happen. He researched DUMBs for the next few hours until he went to bed.

  This Sunday morning’s breakfast table had the usual delicacies on offer: sarcasm, criticism and his father’s bad jokes. Even though John’s parents thought Conspiracy Theories were crazy and his YouTube channel was silly, maybe even a little subversive, they could see that this bizarre hobby of his had done much in the way of helping him get over his PTSD from New York, so they let him be. Except for breakfast time that is. During breakfast, they would often have conversations about him and, much to his annoyance, spoke about J.C as if he wasn’t even there! Today was one of those mornings.

  “He’ll find his way eventually, Sarah.” said John’s father, a handsome, square jawed, fifty year old man with grey hair. He was very fit for his age and sported a military crew cut. He bore a strong resemblance to the actor, Kyle MacLachlan; it would take John years to see the cosmic irony in this, however. The dark eyes under his frown were thoughtful. He lifted his head up from the morning paper, turned left towards his wife, and continued, “He’s got more brains than both of us put together; he only needs to find a constructive outlet for his talents. One that can hopefully pay the bills.”

  “True. I’m sure that YouTube channel of his is just another phase he’s going through,” his mom said, “just like when he wanted to be a Rock Star a few years ago, remember?” she then turned left and gave her son a condescending look, with a smile to match. A moment later she looked down at her plate again and sighed as she continued to play with the last remaining hash brown, moving it back and forth with her fork.

  His mother was a typical all-American blonde. A local beauty queen in her younger years, she was forty-five, but could easily pass for thirty-five. People often assumed she and John were siblings. Her green eyes were her most striking feature. And, again, as if by some grand design that John was not aware of at the time, she looked a lot like the actress, Linda Hamilton, who’d played John Connor’s mother in Terminator 2. Isn’t it funny how these things work?

  “Ha! Oh yeah,” he looked straight across at John, “remember when you used to dress up like Ace Frehley, Jack? What was that tribute band called again…kiss something? I think the second guitarist was that Kyle kid that thought he could do Teleki –”

  “Kiss My Ass!” snapped John and jumped out of his seat. His conservative mother almost choked on the last hash brown and her husband gave her a sturdy pat on the back.

  “Oh, yeah, that’s right. I always liked that name; clever pun. Hey, where are you going, kiddo? You didn’t finish your panca –”

  “I suddenly lost my appetite,” said J.C as he walked out of the kitchen and headed towards the front door, “gee, I wonder why?”

  “C’mon, buddy, what’s gotten into you today? You know I’m a kidder, same as you. I just wanted to lighten things up a lit –” the front door slammed shut before his father could finish.

  Sarah Casey looked to her right at her husband and put a hand to his right shoulder. “That’s okay, Paul, leave him alone. He’ll be fine, he just needs more time. We promised to give him space after what happened in New York and we have to keep that promise.” Paul nodded in agreement and gave her a somber look.

  John raced along the Meadowbrook Parkway; he looked down at the Ducati 848’s speedometer: 90 mph! He had never gone this fast before. Until this day, he’d barely gone over seventy miles an hour. But today was different; today was the first anniversary of the vision he’d received that warned him about the attack on New York a full five months in advance. The fact that he doubted his own vision and decided not to tell anyone about it had been slowly eating away at him since that fateful Wednesday back in May. Thousands of people had died at Yankee Stadium, many of them people he knew personally. He felt he somehow had to make up for this failure, and meeting with Otto today could be the perfect way to do so. If his info was genuine and John helped put it out there, he would finally be able to redeem himself.

  He knew the risks involved with meeting a total stranger from the Internet, but figured a crowded diner in the middle of the day was about as safe as safe could be. It was worth showing up, especially if the total stranger from the Internet was going to give him what he’d promised. Then he got to thinking about what his mysterious German friend had written in the email: you believe only hard evidence of the conspiracy will convince the masses. He truly did think hard evidence of the conspiracy was paramount; second only to offering people undeniable proof of the Spiritual Realms’ existence. Obtaining the evidence that would prove the Grand Conspiracy –at least on a Five Sense level anyway– would be great, but he knew he’d need a miracle to accomplish something like this. And miracles were hard to come by those days, regardless of what various New Age Gurus babbled on about. Yes, even in the Age of Aquarius36, the so-called Golden Age, things didn’t always turn out how our ancestors wanted them to…unless one utilized the power of Magick that is.

  Then again, even while John had been well aware of the power inherent in the Occult Arts, he hadn’t read many books on Ma
gick and Witchcraft, because he didn’t believe the mainstream publications on the subject were any good. As far as he was concerned, the Advanced Magickal Teachings he wanted to get his hands on were not available to the general public. The Illuminati Overlords had made sure of that! Their power stemmed directly from their mastery of the Dark Arts, you see, and, having been subjugated by means of Dark Occult Power, the entire planet would forever remain under this hypnotic, slow death until the curse was lifted! So they went to great lengths to keep the highest secrets of Magick safely out of Humanity’s reach in case people might, one day, use that knowledge against their masters and topple them from their usurped thrones.

  He knew, all too well, that the only chance he had at defeating the Cabal was through using this secret Occult Knowledge against them. But, as much as he wanted to be like Indiana Jones –fighting the Nazis37 and going on exotic treasure hunts all over the world– he was just plain old John. Indy was a fictional character. The Illuminati and the Nazis were not, however, and that was a problem. Out of reach or not, I somehow need to find a way to get my hands on their arcane texts, because New Age bookstore Magick will get me nowhere! This got him thinking back to the first time he’d realized the New Age Movement was just another Prison Religion.

  Due to his huge interest in the Occult and Spirituality, John had studied some New Age philosophies and, interesting as they were, he sensed the invisible hand of the Illuminati behind them. The majority of what he’d read was as fatalistic as Christianity38. The only difference was that they’d replaced the childish, fairy tale-like notion of Master Jesus returning from the skies like Superman to save Humanity, with the idea that, in December two thousand and twelve, everything wrong with the world would somehow miraculously mend itself without anybody having to lift a damn finger! It was that same old theme being rehashed again; a theme that had been used on numberless words throughout the Milky Way’s long history. And, while it had worn innumerable masks in the form of the myriad cults, religions and “isms” of all kinds that sprung up around the galaxy, it conveyed the same, unchanging message: “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you because you are clueless and powerless.” John would’ve had a stroke if he found out how long this insidious Covert Control System had been in place and on how many other planets besides Earth it had been implemented on.

  Yes, dear reader, incredulous as it may sound, that’s how the masses on Earth were conditioned. And those who didn’t fall for the Old Religions were sedated with a new kind of drug instead: the New Age Movement! While, as mentioned in the relevant footnote in the previous chapter, it was more or less a positive movement, the majority of New Age Thought was too vague to be of any practical, real-life value. Even though the New Age philosophies and healing modalities were presented to the masses as being life-changing and empowering, closer examination, however, demonstrated that, by and large, they were nothing of the sort. Aside from good old-fashioned Meditation39, most everything else practiced by New Agers was, quite frankly, a waste of time. In some ways, the movement was even more effective than Christianity in making spineless victims out of people.

  Speaking of spineless victims, John had recently figured out he’d been a Light Warrior40 all along, as opposed to a Light Worker41, New Age disinfo42 notwithstanding. Around a year prior to this time, he’d developed an aversion to the idea all of a sudden. He didn’t know why, but something just didn’t feel right about being in “Love and Light” mode twenty-four-seven, while ignoring all the blatant evil running rampant in the world. Not that John ever did this, but many people he knew in the scene –nothing more than acquaintances– were constantly trying to push this attitude onto him and he would often find himself at odds with them. This culminated in him breaking away from all his New Agey friends and from things like Reiki43 share groups, etc., which he felt were dominated by a head-in-the-clouds, occasionally man-hating, ultra Feminine Energy. He remembered when he was banned from the Manhattan Reiki share group he used to frequent and shook is head in disbelief. Boy, this must be one screwed up planet if a half-baked New Ager like Kyra Taureau is allowed to throw someone like me out of a Reiki share group. John could now see it clear as day: the entire New Age Movement was in serious danger of becoming a vehicle for imbalanced, polarized Feminine Energy. Much like the Cabal was, in turn, an embodiment of distorted Masculine Energy.

  Not soon after realizing he was a Light Warrior, he came to learn that those deluded New Agers, who saw themselves as “Light Workers”, had in fact initially incarnated on Earth as warriors of the Light. They were the Cosmic Cavalry sent to the planet in droves by Prime Creator in order to help free it from bondage! And, knowing of this threat, the Dark Ones had co-opted the New Age Movement, turning it into a trap that was expressly designed to make Light Warriors forget who they were. It worked to dampen the fire of the Light Warrior and turn him or her into a namby pamby, “Love and Light is all there is and I refuse to confront the Shadow of this world head on, no matter how much evil I see blatantly carried out all around me”, easily controlled little slave. In other words, it was the new Christianity.

  A Light Warrior is a Warrior Mystic, who has balanced the Masculine-Feminine Energies within and, thus, uses the Active Masculine Power in the correct way, i.e.: channeled through the prism of the higher Feminine Energies of Love, Compassion and Intuition, thereby ensuring their raw, Masculine Force can only be used for the Greater Good and not as an instrument of death and destruction. And, of course, the Babylonian Brotherhood feared this type of Being more than any other! This idea immediately resonated with John and filled a void he felt ever since he’d embarked on his quest for Higher Truth.

  You see, the Dark Cabal, wanting to subjugate the entire planet within a pyramidal, top-down, hierarchical Control System, had found that the act of deliberately feeding people lies about the true nature of Life and the Universe was the most effective way to achieve this ambitious goal. The reason this tactic works as well as it does is because knowledge is power. So, if a ruler hoards all the Higher Knowledge and keeps his subjects ignorant of the true workings of Life, it is, of course, synonymous with amassing all the power. Understandably, the Dark Occultists had become quite the experts in this dirty little game of keeping all the Higher Knowledge (i.e.: Spiritual Knowledge) for themselves and giving their subjects wrong, or incomplete, data about Life. This particular arm of the Mass Brainwashing Operation revolved around two key components: either a) hiding the truth about or b) deliberately distorting Universal Law44. The Earthlings would forever remain in chains, until which time they rediscovered these same Higher Truths so zealously guarded by their black hearted masters!

  The Illuminati saw the New Age Movement as a fabulous vehicle for carrying out such an aspirational plan. It was simply a new religion designed to replace the older ones. And, as even an amoeba in this galaxy well knows, Organized Religion is every self-respecting, would be enslaver’s Mind Control tool of choice. Yet, at the time, the majority of Earthlings saw this not, and this frustrated John Casey to no end. The Babylonian Brotherhood had done their job well, it would seem. For even those intelligent people, who’d managed the praiseworthy feat of breaking away from traditional Organized Religions all on their own, were prone to fall for the New Age deceptions. The ploy was ingenious, you see: while sprinkled with many a great Truth, among those Truths were also poisonous lies! The fact of the matter is that it’s impossible to outright lie to a Human Being. The only sure way to deceive a person is by giving them a large dose of Truth with some untruths mixed in as well. That’s how all the other Organized Religions did it…so that’s how the New Age Movement did it, too.

  The ultimate goal of the Black Magicians was to dupe the followers of the various New Age ideologies into thinking one’s life circumstances, whether good or bad, were simply “meant to be” and, therefore, could not be changed no matter what the person did. Various ridiculous reasons were put forth to justify this idiocy, but the “explanation”
that had received the most widespread acceptance went something like this: apparently the Earthlings had made Pre-Birth Contracts in order to have certain experiences in life and these supposed “contracts” could not be altered in any way, shape or form. I don’t know about you, dear reader, but this sounds an awful lot like fatalism to me! You should have seen it: millions of people, going around saying things like “Oh, well, I guess it was a lesson for me to go through this; so it had to happen that way.” and a host of other (not so) ingenious statements. Of course, it never once occurred to these types of people that they had the power and Free Will to change their destinies all along, much less that there could’ve been an actual conspiracy, whose express purpose was to keep them forever trapped in this sorry, apathetic state.

  There were, of course, those special few within the Alternative/Truther/New Age community that taught Truth. If, and when, they became too influential, however, the Dark Ones would often utilize all means at their disposal to either control them or, failing that, bring them to ruin. Blackmail, bribery and character assassination were the preferred methods, but, in extreme cases, they would resort to actual assassination. Two shining examples of this popped into John’s Mind: Phil Schneider45 and Bill Cooper. I would gladly die for Mankind like they did. There’s no better way to go; a true hero’s death!

  The sound of an approaching police car siren snapped him out of his deep thoughts. Shit! Speeding ticket! Moments later, he pulled over to the side of the road. He looked into his mirror and saw the Police Officer getting out of the driver’s side door. J.C took off his helmet and reached into his pockets looking for his driver license. Then he turned to see the cop standing to his left.

  “License and registration, please.” John handed him his driver license and the policeman continued. “Sir, are you aware that you exceeded the speeding limit by more than twenty miles an hour?”

  “Really? Wow, I knew I picked up some speed back there for a while, but I had no idea that it –”

  “I’m going to ask you to wait here, while I go back to the car and see if your details check out.”

  After a few minutes, John felt it was taking longer than it should have and turned around. Both officers frowned as they looked back and forth between their computer, each other and him. His heart started to beat a little faster than usual. He whispered to himself. “Why the hell are they looking at me like that? What did I do? It’s just a simple speeding offence for Christ’s sake!” Then he took his phone out and sent a quick Facebook message to Otto, letting him know he was running late. The Police Officer came out of the patrol car again and approached. “Sir, we’re gonna need you to dismount the motorcycle and come with us.”

  “Come with you where, what do you mean?”

  “Sir, I’m not going to ask you again: please dismount the motorcycle and come with us.”

  “I need to know what for. Am I under arrest or something? I know my rights!”

  “We can do this the easy way,” the Officer put his right hand to his gun holster, “or the hard way. It’s your choice, son.”

  “You – you’re kidding, right?” John let out a nervous laugh. “Did I miss something? I thought this was just a simple traffic ticket.”

  “It just became a resisting arrest offence now, wise guy. How’s that?”

  “But I was never under arrest to begin with! So how can it suddenly be a resisting –”

  “Do I look like I care? Get off the bike and put your hands behind your back. Now!” the Officer yelled. A moment later the second Officer also got out of the car. J.C knew something was wrong now. He thought that, if he made them angry, they’d be more prone to make mistakes and he could use it to his advantage. “Make me! How’s that?”

  “Oh, look, Steve,” the first cop turned to the other one, who now stood to his right, “we got a tough guy on our hands this fine Sunday morning. They don’t act so tough after spending a few nights in county! What do you say, truth warrior, should we stick your ass in county for a couple of nights so you can cool off?”

  How the hell does he know my Facebook name…? “H – how do you –”

  “Oh, we know a hell of a lot about you, Johnny boy: we know you don’t like cops…we know you think we’re just dumb dogs on leashes that serve their elite masters…and that you think it’s all a big plot. See, we keep a close eye on all guys like you, ‘cause, frankly, we just don’t like you; you’re nothin’ but trouble. Our job is to serve and protect law abiding citizens. We don’t need your kind calling us murderers and Satanic Cult members!”

  “Oh, yeah? Serve and protect? Serve who exactly? That’s what I’d like to know.”

  “Okay, enough chit-chat, asshole. Time to eat some dirt!” He thrust his hands onto John’s shoulders and yanked him off the bike, throwing him to the ground. John landed on his left side. The Officer then turned him around and quickly handcuffed him. “Stay there and don’t move!” He started towards the car again and turned to the other cop, “Keep an eye on him, will you?”

  The left side of J.C’s face was now flat against the gravel and he could see the other Officer standing to his right. The policeman started to talk. “You’ve been a bad boy, John; the Sergeant’s right, you know,” he tilted his head towards the police car, “what are we gonna do with you, huh…?”

  “But I haven’t done anything wrong…I – I can say whatever I want on YouTube: freedom of speech, remember? It’s not like I’m telling lies; whatever I’ve said about the militarization of the Poli –”

  “Freedom of speech,” the Officer chuckled and shook his head as he walked closer; he then crouched down beside his face, “you a – a comedian or somethin’? If we wanted to, we could kill you, right here, right now, in broad daylight and we’d get away with it, too. Where’s your precious freedom of speech then? You people don’t really know what you’re up against, do you? There’s no stopping it, son; not you, not me, not anyone can stop the New Order! It’s just the way it is. That’s what fools like you don’t understand: you’re fighting a losing battle and all you’re gonna accomplish in the end is getting yourselves killed. Listen to what I’m tellin’ ya and just walk away…forget about all the Conspiracy Theories and that crap about the lizard people and whatever other bullshit you read on the Internet. Just play by the rules and you’ll be left alone; don’t fight a battle you can’t win. Trust me on that one. See, my boss over there, he wouldn’t tell you this stuff; he’s not as nice as I am. But I’m giving you gold advice here, buddy boy: walk away and we’ll leave you alone. You’re a good kid, just a bit misguided is all.”

  John found it suspect that the policeman mentioned Reptilians46, since he’d rarely, if ever, discussed this topic on his channel. He was familiar with the basic gist of it, but didn’t put much stock in this theory at the time. “I’ve barely mentioned the lizard people on YouTube; why bring it up out of nowhere?”

  “Well, you know, guys like you always seem to find a way to throw the Reptilian theory into the mix. For some fucked up reason, seems to be all the rage in the Truther scene these days. And, while we’re on it, take it from me: that so-called theory,” he waved his hand for emphasis, “total fantasy! Bright young man like you, there’s way better things to spend your time on.” John then noticed the red, Maltese Cross-shaped cufflinks on the end of the cop’s sleeve. What the fuck! Who are these people? The Sergeant returned from the car. “The Chief just said we’re free to teach this little punk some manners,” he gave John a derisive look, “truth warrior my ass. You look more like a slave from where I’m standin’, boy!”

  “What do you wanna do with him, Sarge?”

  “Just get him on his feet and follow me.” he then started walking into the woods on the side of the road; Officer Blake forced J.C up. John protested. “You can’t do this! It’s unconstitu –”

  “The constitution doesn’t really exist anymore, pal,” the policeman snapped, speaking into John’s right ear from behind. Sergeant Thom
son then stopped and spun around. He pointed at a pine tree to his left, “Over here; hurry up.” Officer Blake walked John up to it, turned him so that he could face them and then pushed him. J.C stumbled back and crashed against the massive tree. His lower back took the brunt of the impact and he screamed out in pain. “I think he likes it, Sarge.” the Officer jeered. A moment later, John’s legs gave in and his back slid down the trunk. He just sat there at the base of the tree, helpless, looking up at the two men and wondering what on earth would happen next.

  “Like the good Officer here said: constitution’s only there on paper, so people can think they’re living in a democracy,” Sergeant Thomson explained, ”but, soon, when we bring in our new laws, it’s gonna go completely. And, you know what, I say good riddance! No more of this bullshit red tape to tie our hands; we’ll finally be able to bring order into this chaos you laughably call society,” he turned to Blake, who now stood to his left, “can you believe these jokers think Anarchy is actually feasible? Ha! Whenever there’s a problem though, who do they call…?” he looked down at John again, “That’s right, dirtbag: you call the pigs, don’t you? Scum like you just love to accuse us of being murderers for hire, but – but when you have the slightest little emergency, your fingers always seem to find their way to your phone’s number nine and number one keys, don’t they?”

  “If you really served and protected us, you would go and arrest the Banksters and all the politicians they have in their pockets instead! Not to mention other big players, like the Military Industrial Complex, the CIA, NSA47.” the tall, stocky Sergeant grimaced at the mere mention of the three letter agency and exchanged knowing glances with the shorter, slimmer Blake. John, realizing he’d struck a nerve, decided to push their buttons even further. “Yeah, that’s right, I fucking said NSA! And I know all about that cheap itanimulli.com ploy, too: they come out and say it’s just a prank, but no one tells you the guy who owns that domain used to work for DARPA. Prank my ass. I can’t believe so many people have bought into that bullshit explanation! If you ask me, your bosses are trying to tell us something with this most peculiar of URL forwarding cases.”

  Sergeant Thomson composed himself and fired back. “Christ, you Conspiracy Theorists, you never learn do you? We’re the good guys, son, that’s what you don’t get. All we want is a world without war, without theft…without murder! And these so-called Bankers’ Wars you keep yappin’ about on the Net, you’re barking up the wrong tree: the Bankers don’t cause the wars; they’re just shrewd businessmen taking advantage of certain, well…” he paused and the left side of his mouth rose, forming a repulsive smirk, “opportunities. Wars would happen regardless. People have egos, they fight…they all wanna be top dog. Every country wants to outdo the neighboring one. Now, tell me: did the Bankers do that? Guys like us want to see a peaceful, orderly Brotherhood of Man spread across the world. If it means we gotta get a little rough and do some unpleasant things once in a while in order to get there, then so be it. You can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs, can you now?”

  “So that’s what guys like you call a Global Police Dictatorship? A Brotherhood of Man? And you think that by – by roughing me up, you’ll stop me from saying the truth about it on the Internet??”

  “Roughing you up?” He tilted his head back and frowned. “I’m afraid there’s been some kind of misunderstanding here, Jack. Who ever said anything about roughing you up?” Sergeant Jake Thomson then reached down and pulled a gun out of his ankle holster. John was stunned.

  “Shit, Sarge, where’d you get that piece?!” Officer Blake said. “I thought we was just gonna rough him up a little, like he said!”

  “Well, you thought wrong…” said Thomson as he attached a suppressor to the threaded barrel of the Ruger SR22. A moment later, he shot Steven Blake in the right temple, at point blank range. He looked down at his lifeless body, “dead wrong!”

  “Jesus fucking Christ! You – you shot him in cold blood! What –”

  “If a Sergeant shoots his subordinate Officer in the woods and nobody’s there to hear it, did he really shoot him? Way I saw it, it was you who shot him, buddy boy; and I shot you back and saved the day. At least that’s what my report’s going to say,” he then took a white cloth out of his left pocket and started wiping down the gun. He walked closer, “you see, truth warrior, guys like you can upset the peaceful New Order I was just telling you about a minute ago. If enough people listen to your crackpot theories, who knows, you might even have a whole army of truth warriors hanging off your every word one day; and we, uh, we don’t really like that sort of thing around here. The world needs more order, not more revolutions and uprisings. If you really think about it, I’m doing you a favor right now. At least it’s going to be quick and painless, unlike some of the others.” he then pulled his standard issue, Glock 19 pistol out, holding the other in his left with the cloth and making sure not to get anymore prints on it. He aimed it at J.C’s chest and continued. “Let me tell you a little about how this works: when you come back again in the next life, you won’t even know the difference. See, death is not really death; it’s just the body that dies. So I’m not really killing you, buddy. Trust me, it’s just business. I simply have a job to do: my role is to eliminate any obstacles to the New Order. Like I said, I’m the good guy, Johnny. In a few years you’ll likely be back, I’ll be Police Captain at the rate I’m going…and the New Order will be firmly in place by then. Incredible isn’t it?” He cracked a wide smile. “And all this unpleasantness will be just like a bad dream. You won’t remember any of it! Hell, who knows, you might even come back as a big titted blonde, in which case, if we bump into each other again in, oh, say,” his eyes moved about as he did the math, “twenty years’ time, I’ll be extra nice to you, if you catch my drift.” He winked at John and went on. “I’m simply doing my duty to Mankind here; so, uh, please,” he shook his head apologetically and squeezed the trigger, “please don’t take it personally.”

 

 

  I am very worried about the activity of the federal government. They have lied to the public, stonewalled senators and have refused to tell the truth in regard to alien matters.

  – Phil Schneider