Pomelo’s Chronicles: The Beginning

That body… that one was so hard. For each and every one of us. Not because he was someone for us. He had this energy, this… way of being, so odd, out of the ordinary. This came to my mind the other day. Every time we perform this ritual, some things might happen to everyone involved… so yeah, we try not to be all of us doing it so we can still be capable of running our business in the best way possible. I was feeling weird, a week passed, and I began to do creepy things like trying to move my skin so it would fit better above my meat. I wasn’t being able to be comfortable in my own flesh. My eyes and muscles moved automatically, like if they had their own memory or will. Those were some strange and uncomfortable days. Then, when the ninth day passed, I started to hear the thoughts of the last body. They were unbelievably complex, and he spoke in a language I know I didn’t know, but I understood all of it anyways. He talked about an entity, in the form of a beast, long time forgotten, chained in some place under the sea, inside a huge building made of a rock I don’t know how to even pronounce. So alike Lovecraft all of this, huh? But in this case it’s all fucking true. Tipically all the information received by the body we take, stops at the seventh day, and all the symptoms vanishes. But in this case, he is still inside of my mind. And two months have passed. All those things he tells me are at the same time amazing and utterly terrifying. I’m really trying to gather all the strength I still have to tell you more. But I can’t do it in one sitting. The thing is that somewhere under the fucking sea is a beast, a god, and I will find it. I, therefore, will tell you about the ritual. We prepare physically and mentally a person that’s somehow lost. I mean, lost in life, they know they have no way back, and they come to us. So we lock them up, and give them some things to do: First of all, they make a mask of gold, representing faithfully their faces. Obviously between all of this, we teach them about me, their complete and absolute lord, so they can correctly guide themselves when they reach the so strange other side. Also, we prepare them to die. To lose that fear. To understand that their souls will be under my watch, under my care… forever. Another thing is that gun hand gesture. To the one dying, it doesn’t really activates. We teach them what it is so they feel more a part of all this. To us, that gesture is the possibility to open a gate to take the person’s soul. This image represents the exact moment where that happens. Then, the body falls like 50 meters, splashes on the ground, and their physical existence ceases to be. Those eyes floating over my nuns, are my eyes. In another occasion I’ll show you what I do. GN infidels. And welcome to my chronicles.