Hear Of and Have Faith...Bear Witness and Believe

Halek isn't here. Halek went away. He's busy right now. There's no rest for him where he is, with what he's doing. Son Brolly and King Vegeta take care of you. Would you like to see a new chapter written in all my favorite literary devices? Would it bother you to some degree if my fiction was your truth, your truth my fiction? Allow me to educate you in the art of benevolence, destruction and grief. Again, whatever you cast on me will be returned sevenfold. These are the laws of operations. You, yourself, should be more than aware of them. I wonder then, but only to the smallest degree necessary, what's in store for you?

HI IM VIN

I'm the psychotic mantis screaming through his prayers for redemption at the sins you've made me commit, protection from what you'd inflict and transubstantiation from this Hell you've turned my world into...Christopheles. I don't think Jesus appreciates your imitation very much, Leviathan, Abaddon, Lucifer, Mephistopheles, Satan, Belial, Baal, Diablo...The Catholic Church sends Incognito and Vlad recognizes the approval. The fallen angel works in cahoots with Gabriel and Constantine does his duty. The Protestant Church separates schisms from the truth and becomes inharmonious but Vin will set things right. Wouldn't it be nice if the two branches were brought together under the eagle's claw? I'm going to take every bit of truth you've smothered in this desert and lift it up with my own two hands, piece by piece. Every tablet, every piece of papyrus. We're not just talking about obfuscation, we're talking about total annihilation of any who would seek to hex and recompile the Holy Texts for their own purposes. I'm sure you've all seen the movie with the gentleman carrying around a whip and finding priceless artifacts for viewing in museums and the part where the nazis (that is you people) try to fuck with the Holy Ark and just ends up being melted. Sorry, no, that part isn't going to change you fucking kafirs. You're worse than scum on the pond's surface. At least scum and cancer serve a purpose. You have none. Your existence is without meaning or purpose and thus, you are subject to grounds for termination. You do not serve any balance within nature. You do not even serve the purposes of a cleansing fire. You're just weak, fragile uselessness at it's complete worst. You are going to be shown how nature, when she intends to decide who or what lives and dies, how this is simply done. Yes, the Holy Order of Protestant Knights and the Catholic Church will be united through my revelations, my simple logic that I derived from this wicked flesh surrounding my soul from God. These times are, indeed, very exciting. I hope you're just as ready as I am for what's to come. If I have to burn The Vatican to the ground and rebuild it with my own two hands, I'd gladly pay the price in time. Silly Roman Pigs, where do you get off thinking your little "Pope" is equal to Jesus Christ?

"Then he took a cup, and when he had returned thanks he gave it to them, and all drank from it, and he said to them, 'This is my blood, the blood of the covenant, which is to be poured out for many.'"

My 1 Up

Ping response urgent.
Ego reduction needed.
Insult evacuation for the safety dance.

All the taunts in the world won't mask your lies.

Obsessive Compulsive Compulsory Obligations For The Restriction Art's Cancellation

The sound of the shower's faucet on full blast as he stood naked, facing the camera's invisible glare. With a timbre not of his own, eyes bereft of tears with all the acceptance of one so dedicated to the displacement of the self on a battlefield, he spoke: "I will be avenged sevenfold."

My Three Lives

How many different versions of myself, living different versions of this life, changing at different times? Awareness. I can't seem to recall my friends, their faces. It feels like I've been here for so long. About a year now. It won't end without me dying, it seems. The God and Goddess had a child, proxy birth through a woman in the land of the living. He was crucified, died and rose beside his parents. I don't know what's going to happen to me after I die. I'm so fucking convinced about these things, this work of art I've been weaving around myself. I feel things in response. Stimulators and there's nothing yet. You made me forget the title and the quote. There was an EXIF of sentiments, something about a machination to your victory.

King Vegeta found himself in a chamber where the wooden frame of the surrounding walls were cracked, divided to let the light in. The floor was bloody and chains hung around him. The rattle suddenly came from the shadows, striking his skin as though it were living metal trying to grasp onto him. They fell, limp. The Black Pope appeared with four of his friends. The cenobites. Halek had warned The King and the others of this grave danger, of the pain and agony they had caused to innocent individuals throughout his dream world. The souls they had taken, perverted and claimed as their own like elves into orcs from Tolkien lore. Vegeta moved, his steps like the rays of light flashing in and out of existence, his fist through the cenobite's bodies like Vin's against the wooden board from his first test at the school where he had been trained in the martial arts as a child. They fell, lifeless and headless with a swift ridge hand strike followed by the collapsed heart in his ruddy, white glove. A simple tip-toe back into the shadows, so to speak. It wasn't disappearing. It was just quick movement. The cenobites knew of this as well. Within a few breaths, they were all heaped on top of their own forms. Vegeta turned to look at their leader, eyes of black fire. He ascended, tossing the grotesque form of what was once a man against the wall nearby. "Do you enjoy hurting the weak so much? Do you enjoy pain? You are a fool." By the end of this statement the rings of death were clutching around the Pope's neck, torso and legs. "You do not know what pain is!" Vegeta steps to him and with all swiftness removes the metal spikes studding his skull. "Have you ever felt the ground beneath you erupt in a frenzied storm of ash and fire, tearing you apart or launching you into the airless vacuum of space where your maimed form suffocates?" He slaps his bear, pallid visage a few times before thrusting his fist into his pierced stomach. The Pope spat blood. "So you do breath after all...You're not so dead as you claim." A hard backhand and the Pope's jaw hangs loosely, his sadistic rantings ended. "Have you ever felt every fiber of your body aflame before you exploded outwards, showering everything in your sights in an inferno of jagged shards? Have you ever felt the liquid burn? It's somewhat like the mixture of lye and saliva against your skin, this energy." Vegeta holds out his hands and a sphere of ki begins to coalesce. It shoots to the wall behind them and the light cascades in, the thunderous roar of the explosion muting out all the cries of the damned and screams of the innocent. "It's time these individuals were freed from you. What's the matter Pope?! Does the light burn your eyes?! Do you think you are forever? Think you know true power?! The person you've trapped in this stupid box was born an ascended Saiyajin! He holds strength in his fingertips that we only dream of! He is on our side and he is your worst nightmare, Pinhead!" Vegeta steps back ten feet, battle stance ready, rigid upright palm facing his enemy. Son Goku, meanwhile, was devouring the legions of the Pope's followers in a furious hailstorm of death from the black sky above. A fierce beacon of light amidst the living dead. Son Brolly was in his own quadrant, tearing the fabric of everything apart with all the glee that the Saiyajin feels in midst of righteous combat. Halek slept peacefully at the center of the labyrinth, awaiting patiently in his dreams to be carried off.

You keep referring to this game that you have me playing against my will. Something that you designed for me to lose. You keep telling me that I like to play games. Honestly, it's only out of pure boredom in my protest that I do it. They're more entertaining than books, yes and I guess you could say I don't not enjoy the act of playing a video game. It's all about pleasure at the cost of another's with you, isn't it? It's hard to stop. To give up the sense of restart. Yes, I like to play games. What does it have to do with anything else? Why do you keep scripting my actions to something else? That's not very nice. You should learn to be a more gentle individual, like me.

Boy, I sure do hate you a whole lot.