Demons Dreaming

It wasn't long ago that I found myself in a dark place with my head swimming full of maniacal research into the malevolent realms. I was twenty years old and I had begun a long strenous journey into researching evil spirits.

At this point in my career - with my confidence beginning to take stride and my soul developing into the creature I had envisioned - I had begun to take an investigative roll in strange phenomenon: ghost hauntings, freak occurrences, and even reported cases of demonic possession (basically the contents of this web site). If anything, I thought that the research would serve my knowledge well and better prepare me for anything that I might encounter on one of many investigations.

I became physically and mentally entrenched in my research - absorbed in a whirlwind of ancient texts and obscure names. Sometimes, I felt lost. I felt like I was losing touch with everything around me. And more and more each day... I felt haunted.

About halfway through my research I began to feel like I was never truly alone - like something or someone was constantly lurking just out of sight, even in my most quiet moments. I found myself looking over my shoulder on occasion, even when I was the only one in the house. Strange things started to happen all around me. Things that made me question my own sanity.

One day, while sitting on my bed, I saw - as clear as day - a little boy walk from my window to within three feet of where I was sitting; and then he was gone.

On another occasion, I awoke from a light sleep, cleared my head, and then stared in amazement as some black, scraggly, tentacled thing hovered before me, staring right through me.

Was my imagination playing tricks on me? Had I finally snapped? Was all my torrid research doing nothing more than pushing me over the fine edge I was probably already standing on? But then again, how often do crazy people actually begin to question their sanity? I dismissed the notion of a mental breakdown as nothing more than creeping doubts about my own proficiency. But I had mastered these doubting thoughts long before, and I quickly threw them to the wayside. I carried on with my research.

Then one night I was visited by a feverish dream while deep in sleep; a dream so vivid that even today I could swear it was a part of my waking reality if I didn't known better.

I was giving a seminar on the very subject of my research, explaining some of the concepts and theories that I had developed along the way. The few days before this dream, I had been having a hard time trying to fit the demonological concepts of Satan, Lucifer, Samael, and Azazel into one coherent piece of mythology. I was struggling to get all the pieces together and finalize a theory that felt right to me. In my dream, I was debating this very subject with those in attendance, and I presented my theory to them as clearly as possibly; though even in my dream, I felt a little uneasy with my final conclusion. When the seminar was over, most of the people left the auditorium while a few approached me with additional comments and questions. The approach of one individual stunned me, even in a dream, as his features constantly shifted before me; features that were human, but somehow off. He talked to me about Azazel and the First Fall and the difference between the many Arch-demons. Strangely, he supported me in my endeavor and in my theories. As he continued to talk, I realized where I was and what I was doing. And I began to wonder whether this was my dream or not. I felt as if I wasn't in control - as if this were some limbo, some neutral meeting ground. And I received a nagging feeling that I was standing there face to face with the devil himself.

I awoke (or did I just come to realize that I was sitting up in my bed) with a smile on my face; a smile that disturbed me. I was... somehow proud. I was proud of everything that I put into my research, despite the subject matter and despite what others could possibly use it for. A few days later I wrapped up my research and set it aside, disturbed by what I had accomplished, and forever haunted by a dream that wasn't a dream and a devil that came to meet me.