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A Journey to the Righteous Province
- A Journey to the Righteous Province -
This is the true story of a supernatural event that happened to me during the summer of the year 2004...
There is a certain somewhat otherworldly place to be found in South America that, of old, the ancient indigenous peoples believed was located at the very ends of all the known lands of the earth. The place, this once sacred ground, lay around where the Maule River had since time immemorial emptied out into the Pacific Ocean. In the earliest years of the sixteenth century, as the great Incan Empire came sadly to its' end, there began a dark era, a time filled with shadows, in which things out of old legend took place. For to the south of that great river... there, did lie a land filled with mysterious happenings and a shroud of darkness that the ancient Incas feared to penetrate. Their gods did not dwell there, for other gods had walked in those lands in the time before the beginnings of time. Gods who watched as the waters of the ocean chilled and turned from blue to a dark black... gods who witnessed the struggles of those peoples who called that land their home, despite the harshness of the land itself. Was the land itself, the soil and the rocks, the roots of the trees and the sands of the beaches filled with malice... or, had the malice been within the hearts and souls of men and women, who merely though that the land was accursed? No one today living could say. There were whispers of witchcraft and sorcery, in those lands... and in the lands that lay beyond its' borders. In the old Incan tongue that land was called “The Place of the Seagulls”... and unto that place only the brave, the desperate, or the foolish might have sought to, heedless, venture.
Today, that land is still mysterious, although the encroachment of civilization upon it has so brought with it a certain degree of relief and release, from the shroud of darkness that the ancients once vividly imagined cloaked that place. For, approximately seven hundred miles to the north of that feared place, the great capital city of Santago lies... the capital of the modern nation of Chile. However, the ancient Place of the Seagulls is still a land steeped in legend, myth, tradition, and history. All of which is of a mysterious and deep nature that can seem hidden to those who first come to visit the place. A place that stretches on for longer than a thousand miles, all the way unto the boundaries of the Tierra del Fuego... the “Land of Fire”. The habitations in that land even today are sparse, and the land is lonely in countless places, as if the earth there had little use for human beings. Was the land filled with malice? One would not think it was so, upon visiting that region. At least not at first glance! At the heart of this domain you will find the remote island of Chiloé, where the rains fall with a fury matched only by the beauty of the colorful rainbows that such rains always seem to leave in their wake. Its' woods and forests are so often dark indeed, and mostly untouched by the callous hand of industry. In a bygone age, you might have oft encountered pirates and privateers plying their trade off of its' waters. During the nineteenth century, it was there that one of the last “witch trials” took place before the rise of the modern era. You would not know this, walking upon the shores of that island today! You would not guess that unseen, there are yet forces at work that the rational mind of science and the false protections of faith can never prepare one for. It was in Santiago that one Camilla Flores lived, and through her I became acquainted with ancient mysteries and black magical secrets... that, to the uninitiated, would seem to be truly forbidden things.
I had first met her over the old ICQ network, back during the early summer of 2004... while I was in a reading group's chatroom. It was an occult reading group, where I had mostly discussed my Gnostic and Pagan beliefs with like-minded people from all over the world. Camilla met me on there, and asked me if I would be interested in learning from her the absolute blackest of magics. I was, during that phase of my life, a student of the very darkest of mystical arts... for I had felt that somehow the lighter aspects of divinity and magic, had abandoned me. It was a difficult chapter of my life, and when I look back on it now I might have even been uncaring as to whether I lived or died, at the time. Camilla... intrigued me.
She was a mutual friend of a girl I knew on the ICQ network, although I had never met the girl in the flesh. Camilla sent me via email all manner of information on things relating to my past lives and all of my previous incarnations. All of those things were true, and I had never discussed them with either the girl I mentioned previously, or with Camilla herself. I was amazed, that she knew such intimate details of those lives of mine too, and more than a few about my current life that only close family had an idea about. I asked her how she knew these things, and she said that her order had an abiding interest in me. She said it was the “Age of the Dragon” now, and asked me what I though that meant. I told her, that I personally believed that it was time for those of us who are human in outward appearance only to soon reveal their true natures to the world, to usher in an age where people would be bound by only one law. Do as thou wilt! But harm none. She was pleased with my response... and said that she wished to meet with me in person to discuss these matters further. The strangest part was, she never discussed a place where we were to meet with me! She merely said: “I will see to everything. Ave Satani! And that was all I heard from her about this matter, she was never present in that chatroom ever again following that.
Later that week, I went up to the park for a walk since I was bored to tears at home and my family did not seem to understand me very well. I was thirty years old at the time, lonely for companionship... and already weary of the world. I was living in New England at the time, and although I appreciated all the beauty and history of that part of America, I kept feeling like I was missing something on a deep level. It was at the park that Camilla Flores decided to meet with me in person. She drove a black car, I had at the time paid no attention to either the make or model of it. She rolled down the window, called out to me by name and said: “Hey, come on over here! I want to talk to you.” and I did as she asked, though a part of me had a mind to run home after all. It was a feeling, just a dark feeling I could not explain. By the end of that August... she had arranged for the entire trip, for us to return with her to Santiago, Chile. On the way, she had told me all the history of it that she could remember by heart and many things you will not find in any history book, things she swore me to secrecy about. She was a beautiful woman, at least by my standards of beauty! A head shorter than myself, with light brown skin that had very slight reddish brown undertones. Deep brown eyes, long straight raven black hair parted neatly in the middle. She had full lips, almond shaped eyes, a stocky build and a husky sounding voice. She was around the same age as myself, perhaps a little older I thought. For our trip, she decided to wear a black women's pantsuit... although, she admitted that this choice was perhaps a little too formal for a casual vacation. It was a long drive out to Boston from my home state, and then a long flight from Boston to Santiago. But Camilla was at my side every step of the way, so I was never lonely or bored. She continued to intrigue me, and the more she taught me the more I longed to learn from her. She was wealthy, but never spoke of her family to me, although I talked with her about mine at length. “You do not get along well, with your family?” she asked me and I admitted that I did not. “That is a shame.” she stated in a sorrowful tone, and then added: “You cannot choose your family, regrettably.” and I sensed that she too had not been on good terms with her own flesh and blood. I was living as a man at the time, but dressed in an androgynous manner. Most of the clothing I packed for the trip were women's clothing or unisex. I had no use for men's clothing whatsoever, and was pleased to see... that Camilla did not mind my eccentric nature. “You just be yourself!” she said to me, assuring me that: “There will be no haters to fear of.” I had very long hair back then, brown with auburn and reddish highlights. I wore it in a high ponytail and even like that it was down to my waist. For our plane trip, I was dressed a whole lot more casually than Miss Flores had. Blue sweatpants, paired with a blue silk blouse with a wide neck and short sleeves. I wore a pair of flip-flop style sandals on my feet, a blue beaded bracelet around my left wrist, and I had on a silver necklace with a green yin-yang symbol pendant that hung from it. I brought with me things to write with, a black binder, and some white copy paper to write on. I had no idea, what I was in for!
After we landed in Santiago, Camilla had a long black limousine waiting for us... which drove us out to her mansion, outside of the city. That confirmed for me my suspicion that the woman was quite rich. During the drive out there, she asked me about my Native American heritage and I told her that I had in my veins blood from three different tribes. She asked me to name them... and I told her how they were Cherokee, Chippewa, and Shoshone. All from my mother, and from her mother before her. She saw my sallow skin tone, my almond-shaped blue eyes, my high cheekbones and my aquiline nose and realized that there was mixed blood within me, which was true. “I never knew my father.” I confessed to her, to which she replied: “Sometimes, that can be for the best.” and after a lengthy drive, we reached the large mansion, I was shown to a guest bedroom, and there I fell asleep and remained that way until morning. The whole trip up to that point was like a blur to me, and I barely paid much attention to minor details. I felt like I was running away from home, only my family knew I was on vacation and did not care. My mother had all but said “Good riddance!” to me before I left, and a part of me was deeply hurt about it. I had dark, tormented dreams my first night in Chile... and I realize now, it had been a dire premonition.
The mansion was beautiful... with white stucco walls, a columned porch, a lovely garden area, and all the modern conveniences you would expect. The interior, was filled with elegant statuary, paintings on many walls with quite a few of them being by local artists, fine draperies for every window, along with lacy curtains. There was a dining hall, a rather large kitchen... and enough rooms to house a big family. My own room there was like a fancy hotel's room. I took a bath, dried myself off with a towel, and got ready for the day. I wore a pair of long teal colored harem-style pants with a drawstring waist, which I paired with a long white tunic-style sleeveless top that came to about my thighs. I put on my bracelet and my necklace, put on some lilac scented perfume I had packed, and went to the dining hall to see if breakfast was ready. Camilla and I had our morning meal together. She was wearing a long black gown that was very low cut and showed her ample cleavage quite nicely. It was a sparkly kind of gown, like something you would see royalty or celebrities wear. It was simply fare, our breakfast. Just some toast, a hot sandwich known as a Barros Luco, some mashed potatoes, and a glass of milk to drink. We had some pastries for dessert, as well. It was very filling, more than enough for me. After that, I washed my hands, brushed my teeth, and Camilla decided it was time to show me to her private library. “You will find many rare books there, some with English translations which I have been working on... diligently.”
The library was huge, taking up two full floors of the mansion. It was filled with all manner of leather bound books, many without titles. There were some books by famous authors I recognized, mostly light fictional stuff of the fantasy, mystery, science fiction and horror genres. Camilla, was a fan of many of the same classics that I was myself fond of. The light from the chandelier lit the room warmly, as I had a look through several of the books that piqued my interest. There were countless occult book, tomes, manuscripts, and manuals. Some were in Spanish which I did not fully understand, only knowing bits of the language. But many were indeed hand translated into English, and these I looked over with great interest. They were about occult practices from all over the world, from Europe to the Middle East and all the way to Asia. Various sections of these texts mentioned the island of Chiloé, and many sentences and paragraphs were either highlighted or circled. “Ah! So you have noticed those segments.” she said to me in a somewhat purring tone of voice. “I plan to take you to the island in a couple of days. That is where you will learn the magical arts that I promised to teach you. Forget about Wicca! As far as I am concerned it is just glorified self-empowerment anyway. Never mind the elemental based magics, and the earth-bound rites of the Druids! They only have power over this world. What I am planning to show you, is something beyond. And, if you decide to become my apprentice... there will be other perks that come along with that position, which I think you will enjoy. Unless, your proclivities lie.. elsewhere?”
We were dressed mostly the same for our trip to the island, as we had been that day at the mansion... except we brought a couple of very light jackets with us in case of rain. “The storms out there, they can be rough sometimes.” Camilla told me, adding: “You really don't want to get caught out in it, when it gets torrential!” We drove by car most of the way, and it was a long drive with quite a few stops along the route we took. Santiago was very far behind us when the skies turned gray as we took some rather winding roads and back roads through the countryside. We had all the necessary shots prior to our trip, so I was not worried about getting sick with anything... but I was feeling a bit miserable all the same. “What is wrong?” Camilla asked me, putting her hand on my thigh. The driver pretended not to notice, but the friendly seeming man smiled a bit. “I cannot name it. Just these feelings of loneliness and such profound sorrow, as if I were feeling the whole world's pain sometimes.” and my hostess smiled wide, exclaiming: “Ah! You are gifted with the empathy then... just like me... watch out, because sometimes you won't just feel peoples' and places' emotions and vibes. You might pick up their thoughts as well!” In all it took us a good four days to reach the ferry that would take us to the island of Chiloé. On each night, we found decent enough accommodations given my hostess' money, and at least twice I had the feeling she was sneaking into my room to stare at me as I was falling asleep. I thought it was simply my imagination, however, and put it out of my head entirely. Eventually, we arrived at the town of Ancud, which is the second largest city on the island. A city whose history dated all the way back to 1768. It was a normal enough place, although sure as we had expected it was pouring rain that day. We waited out the rain at a local restaurant... where we had our supper and spent some time learning more about each other. I was forthcoming, while Miss Flores was as evasive and mysterious as she had ever been. Once the rain stopped, the sun came out and it was magnificent! Rich blue waters, azure skies, green hills, and many colorful houses which gave the community a certain charm. There were many thickly wooded areas, and the sun shone through those trees magnificently. “This is the public face of Chiloé, the quaint and simple facade that the government wants you to see.” Camilla explained, before going on and stating: “It is just that! A facade. I intend to show you a side of this island that is not apparent amid all this beauty and simplicity.” I laughed a bit, and replied: “I cannot wait.” She was not smiling.
I changed into a pair of loose black shorts and a red tank top, still favoring my sandals... prior to the hour long drive we ended up taking from Ancud all the way to Tenaún. Camilla herself, wore a short black leather miniskirt paired with a white camisole top and sandals similar to my own. “This will be a different experience than you might be used to.” she cautioned me, adding: “Let me do all the talking, and do not be afraid, not matter what you see or what happens.” I nodded in agreement but otherwise found that I had nothing to say. We eventually reached the village of Tenaún, and it was a surprisingly pleasant looking rural community not unlike many smalls towns I had seen in the United States where I had come from. There were a lot of small hills and dense trees, and there were dirt paths in places that gave the place a certain old world ambiance that I was fond of. A large wooden sign was there in one place, which listed historical events that took place as far back as the year 1567. Camilla informed me that Tenaún meant “three hills” in the language of the ancient native inhabitants of the region. “So, is the place you want to show me here in town?” I asked my hostess, who responded with a chuckle as she explained: “Oh, my goodness, no! It is further north... in Quicavi. In a place where many locals will tell you never to set foot. They will tell you, that devils and demons lie where we are going, and that if you go too far, too deep, you will lose your soul. They are foolish and silly! I intend to show you why.” And before we had much time to see any of the local sights in much detail we were headed way out of town already. “You seem to be in a great hurry!” I exclaimed to Camilla, and she said honestly: “Why not be in a hurry? We are not tourists here, we are not going to see the sights as you might imagine. I have a purpose in mind for this trip with you... and, we will not accomplish it by wasting hours of our time.”
By car, it was a lengthy drive northwards from Tenaún to the fishing village of Quicavi. It was almost nightfall by that hour, and I concluded that we must have simply lost track of time back in Ancud when we waited out the rainstorm. Quicavi turned out to be a rather tiny community, as far as villages go, but the countryside out that way was as beautiful as the rest of the island. However, with the onset of night, there were sinister shadows over everything... and a feeling of unease was growing inside of me, that I was finding harder and harder to explain away. “I suppose we will be spending the night here in town.” I suggested, to which Camilla laughed before curtly stating: “No. Our destination is further south of the village, more along the coast. Just follow me... we are nearly there now!” after which we walked along the coastal area to the south of the village's boundaries. “Miles of caves can be found out this way... and you could even venture into some and become lost, before finding yourself all the way south in Tenaún again.” she explained, before pointing in a very specific direction. “There is a ravine out that way!” she said, adding: “And, it is an old place... one of the oldest in all of creation. Come along, let me show you the place I speak of! You will like it, I promise.” She took me by the hand after that and led me down a series of trails which took us through some wild looking countryside. Dense trees, many bent or broken with age, abounded... and there were rocky stretches too, with patchy fields of grass. Wild flowers were abundant, but as we walked further along the trees grew more twisted and the ground almost marshy in places. Soon we came unto a rather small ravine... and the sound of fast flowing water, could be heard. There was a stream at the very bottom of that ravine, and it flowed from out the rocks and on as far as that ravine went, and perhaps further beyond sight than I may have realized. The green of the earth was all around us, the ground mossy and spongy where we stood overlooking the ravine below. “It is small, but it goes on for a long way.” I said, and Camilla nodded. “There is a place down there that is hidden.” She explained, before motioning for me to follow her down into the ravine by way of several winding pathways and trails that seemed perilous looking but which were actually quite safe if one was careful.
Once we were at the bottom, of the ravine... we walked over to a place where there was some grass, vines, dirt and rocks piled up in a way that looked deliberate. Camilla pushed all of those things aside, and revealed a sturdy looking old wooden door set into the side of the rocky earthen wall before us. A metal lock was attached to the door, and Camilla took a tiny key out of her skirt's pocket and unlocked the door, opening it with a loud creak. “This is it! Come with me... your world is about to change.” she said in a sinister tone of voice. Inside, there was a long tunnel that was dimly lit with peculiar smelling torches. There was an earthy scent about everything, and the air was hot and humid. The tunnel went on for some time, but eventually... it opened up into a large circular chamber in which there were very old and ancient looking cave paintings upon the walls depicting various scenes form local myths, lore, and legends. Camilla pointed to one that showed two gigantic serpents that seemed to be locked in combat. She told me: “This depicts Tenten Vilu and Caici Vilu, two primordial serpent gods from an age long before recorded history. They fought a titanic battle, it is said, and from the destruction and debris that was hurled about due to it... these islands and more were formed.” Suddenly, I could hear a horrendous sound that was like a person moaning and groaning from an upset stomach. It was a man's voice, or at least the approximation of such. Out of an adjoining cave came two horribly disfigured and deformed individuals. One, was a naked man with his head twisted around backwards. He walked using his two hands and one of his legs, with the other being stitched or somehow otherwise grafted unto the back of his neck. His face was horrible to look upon, and he had wild white hair and an unkempt looking white beard. He had a gash in his back and his spine was actually exposed in places. He was covered in all manner of cuts, scars, and scratches. Some looked like lash marks! The other creature looked also like a man, totally naked as well, but walking on all fours like an animal and wearing a mask that resembled the head of a horned goat. Both of these... things... were the source of truly disgusting groaning noises.
“Show them no fear... and they will allow us to pass.” Camilla explained. “They are the Chivato and the Invunche.” she explained, adding: “Guardians of these caverns.” and I treated them much like one might treat domesticated animals, allowing them their spaces as Camilla and I worked our way around them and into the deeper caverns they had come out from. “I helped to make them as they are.” she had told me as we walked along, elaborating: “Perhaps sometime I might show you the process!” but I had no wish to see it... and so, I just nodded silently and allowed her to lead me to wherever it was that we were supposed to be going. We next came to a set of living chambers which appeared more modern in their own way than I had expected for a place like this. There was a generator set up there, and the air was kept cooler. “It was not always like this... but we must have our conveniences in this day and age.” Camilla noted aloud. We passed by several rough corridors with side rooms containing that I could only term “laboratories”. In one of them, a naked teenage girl was being attended by several men and women wearing green gowns of somewhat native looking design. The girl was being induced to vomit... until she appeared quite sick. Then, a mask shaped like a rook bird was sewn unto her head. Into the mouth of the mask was poured some kind of potion that the people attending the girl had been brewing using alchemy equipment. A cloak that appeared to be made of black feathers was then places around the girl who made some of the most horrible noises that I have ever heard a human being make. “That is called La Voladora.” Camilla told me, going on to explain: “When they are completed, they make for the ideal spies, messengers, and couriers between our various covens. Only the ones we use underground end up being given the appearance of birds... the ones we use in the outside world remain human in their most outward appearance. Within, however, they are no longer as such!” These were indeed some of the very blackest of all the black arts being conducted in this domain beneath Quicavi. They used combinations of science, medicine, and magic in order to do things... that some might consider to be unspeakable. To tell of all the horrors I witnessed within that place, would be too much for the scope of this work. So, I shall suffice it to say, that it was very much like unto being guided through all the circles of Hell itself.
Initiates into Camilla's order, I was told... were required to symbolically wash away all traces of their Christian baptism. “The Spanish forced their religions down my ancestors throats in ages past.” said my hostess to me, before she further told me: “That, is why we require that all of those new to us renounce such false religions, so that they might return to the old gods and the ancient ways that we teach here.” Some were fanatical in how they went about it, too! Many chose to bathe in freezing waters over at the Traiguén river, some for as long as fifteen consecutive nights during which they were given only some hot toast to warm themselves with. Some died as a result of this, unsurprisingly. Others fell ill, and just barely were able to recover after that ordeal. None of them had to do this! A simple cold shower would have sufficed, Camilla told me, but there were always those who wanted to show their commitment in extreme ways. She also mentioned: “We never demand the taking of a life, only a symbolic shedding of one's own blood. It can be as tiny as a pinprick or a small cut, and that would satisfy our traditions. But some in the past have actually felt driven to murder a close friend or a dear relative, and were surprised that we expelled them from our order. These are not the days in which the first Council of the Cave had a mind to make such demands, for whatever perverse reasons they had for doing so. Today, we try to be at least a little more civilized with our methods. We do not even use waistcoats of human flesh, which were too hot anyway, unlike our ancestors of old.” Regarding the waistcoats, I was not certain at all if she was joking with me or completely serious. I suspected it was a little bit of both actually. We came at last to a great ritual chamber from which the sounds of drumbeats and chanting resounded, echoing through the caves, caverns, and tunnels as we approached. I was the first outsider to be allowed within this place in centuries, I was told. “But you are hardly an outsider to me!” Camilla said mysteriously. I had no idea what she meant, nor the kinds of things that I was presently about to become embroiled in.
Within the middle of the ritual chamber... a massive circular room with a ceiling filled with countless stalactites... there was a series of concentric layers that went on progressively lower and deeper into the ground. At the very bottom was a black pit from which emerged tendrils of smoke. The walls had many tapestries hung from them, with various native designs particular to the Mapuche, and other indigenous groups, some of the names of which I had never heard before. The walls of that chamber also contained various doorways, tunnels, and passages leading deeper into darkness. Some, were shut behind doors... and others were like open maws. Camilla, took me down toward the dark pit at the deepest point of the chamber, where there were various ritualistic objects lying about, some on old wooden tables, some on the tops of small stone pedestals, some simply on the cavern floor. She told me to kneel in front of her, and as I did so she took a very plain looking gray chalice and filled it with water from a nearby basin. She used that to anoint me, while chanting in one of the native languages of the region. She then asked of me: “Do you hereby renounce your Christian baptism, and the name your parents gave you? Do you renounce the falsehoods of the Church, the lies of the Vatican, and the deceptions that are perpetrated in the name of Christ and the Virgin Mary?” I said without a bit of reservation: “I do!” and she poured the rest of the water over my head before instructing me to dry myself with a towel that lay on the floor just next to the basin. She then took out a black tricorn hat and I saw that within was a human skull. If it had not been a real skull, it was certainly very convincing looking! Camilla then tossed the skull out of the head and instructed me to try and catch it, which I did. My hands trembled a bit and I nearly dropped it after it was in my hands, but in the end I had it firmly within my grasp. “Now, throw it down into the pit below, and say the word 'arrealhue' exactly as I have pronounced it.” she further had instructed. I did as she had told me, saying the word precisely and correctly, being careful not to mispronounce it even in the slightest. Once that was finished, and the skull was lost in the pit below, Camilla proudly stated: “Welcome, my child, to the inner circle of the Righteous Province, as we call this place. We are known by many names, but most simply call us the Majority, for we are the true power here in these lands. Our influence extends far beyond Chile's borders as well, for it was not easy for me to get you on board that plane when you lacked a passport. I had one forged for the occasion, however... and it was convincing. Should you decide to return to the United States again, be certain to destroy it once you are back home, since I doubt it would hold up with repeated uses. But that is in the future! For now, make yourself at home, and avail yourself of all the knowledge and arts that we possess and can teach you. I shall give you a new name now, once by which you will be called within our order. Never reveal it to outsiders!” and she gave me the name... which I shall not write even here, because I was sworn to keep it a secret.
A great feast was held on the following night, after which I was taught various occult arts, disciplines and secrets that went far beyond the indigenous traditions of the ancient peoples of that island. Some of them could be traced farther and farther back into even the shadows of prehistory, when primordial and strange gods and goddesses held sway over a world that still humanity had yet to walk upon the surface of. There were threads of those teachings I learned that wound their way to Atlantis, Lemuria, Mu and later to Sumeria, Babylon, Egypt and all of the most ancient of humankind's civilizations. But here, the most primal forms of such traditions held the greatest sway, coupled with the darkest kinds of wisdom and knowledge. “One does not ask... to join us... one is asked.” Camilla confided to me once in passing, so that I could comprehend the honor that she had extended to me. “Why me, though?” I asked her once and she replied: “Because, I know who you really are... here...” and she pointed to her left breast as she said that. “And here!” she exclaimed, pointing to the area on her head where the spiritual “third eye” is believed to exist on people. I studied so many works of dark magic in that place, participated in rituals and took part in rites that should have rendered me insane. I became a warlock in that time, and grew in not just magical power but in the greater wisdom of knowing when not to use any such arts frivolously.
The final day of my stay in that place was nearing, although at the time I knew it not. Camilla led me into a hidden area behind a stone wall that could be push inward to reveal a long-forgotten passageway. It led down into a subterranean realm of such awe-inspiring magnitude that it felt like we had crossed over into another world entirely. A great underground stream ran through that place, and the sounds of dripping water echoed throughout the cavernous halls. That place was untouched by human hands, and yet for some reason it was important to this dark order. Camilla showed me to a place where skeletons were shackled to great pillars of rock, and where piles of human skulls... real ones, I knew now, just as the one I had thrown into the pit was... were heaped about in places. Incredibly old blood stains could be seen, and I knew that these long dead people had perished quite violently. I was wearing one of the green gowns of the order, while Camilla Flores wore a black one of similar design. “This is a place that of old was where the first rulers of the Righteous Province hid the greatest of their treasures.” she told me, pointing off down a certain direction and exclaiming: “Down there, and I will allow you to see our great black grimoire!” Thus, we went... and before long we came to a place which was being used as a kind of makeshift crypt. The dead were interred on raised slabs within alcoves hollowed out in the cave walls. I gazed there upon the skeletons of the first, ancient leaders of Camilla's order, who slumbered in that place, never to wake again. On the far wall of that extensively long chamber, there was a wooden table upon which were two candles, one black and one red. The whole time we had been down in this area, Camilla had been using a flashlight, but now she produced a match from a pocket in her gown and lit both of the candles, which provided some dim, warm light. I then saw that also upon that table was a worn leather-bound journal and a thick tome-like book that appeared to be bound in human flesh. Upon the surface of it was drawn some kind of arcane symbol etched in blood. It was honestly like witnessing a scene from a horror movie, only this was actually real, and shocking! “Open it.” Camilla commanded me... and I did as she begged. But, no sooner had I cast that book open... than I beheld a strange flash of light followed by a deep mist and dark shadows which rolled into the chamber out of nowhere. I spun around and the whole place seemed to pulsate, to shift before my eyes, and there were peculiar sounds and noises that were horrific to hear. Camilla was nowhere to be seen, and at far end of that chamber... all the way back to where we had first entered the crypt area... I beheld a young Mapuche girl dressed in a long red gown. Her features were indistinct, and she had a ghostly quality to her. “Who are you, and what do you want with me?” I asked, to which the girl replied: “My name was once Chilpilla, and I had been the first of this great tribe of tribes that you now follow. I was given the black grimoire, by a man who had come to us from another nation across the waters... a foolish, vain and egotistical man whose name was José de Moraleda y Montero. It was roughly around the year of 1786 A.D. He attempted to challenge me, to best my magic with his own. And he failed! I caused his boat to falter, to crash, and so to run aground... and he was forced to admit his defeat at my hands. To ensure that no ill will could lay between us, he gave me one of his journals and the black grimoire that even he dared never open. But I opened it after he had departed! I learned its' secrets, and other shamans like myself came to be taught those secrets from me. Some from the Machi, some from the Kalku, and some from more distant and varied tribes still! They came, and a great council was formed. The first such council, but not the last! My own bones lay here someplace, in a chamber that no one has ever seen. If you would gaze upon the pages of the black grimoire, then know this... I will be watching. If you are worthy, you will not die! If you are found to be false, then you shall never leave this place with breath still in your lungs. Farewell.” And following that, the chamber was back to normal and I was standing before the book, about to open it and read what it contained. I did so... but could not understand the words for they were written partly in Arabic, partly in Greek, and partly in Spanish, with the Spanish having been seemingly a translation. “I can teach you its' secrets, if you are not afraid! I have studied them since I was a child.” Camilla had informed me. I told her that I wished to be taught those secrets... before my time to leave, was at hand.
It took some time to learn everything that had been within that terrible book... it was well on into the first part of September when Camilla was satisfied that she had nothing left to teach me. She told me a final secret in passing: “There is a second such tome, that I have glimpsed in dreams... somewhere out there, perhaps not even on this world but in some other... and it is whispered that only the Devil might be able to comprehend what is contained within its' pages. I might go seeking it someday by means of either a vision quest or through dream walking. When that day comes, I will take you along with me... so that we can seek it out together. But first, I think it is time that you paid me the tribute that is due at the end of one's apprenticeship. You are a Master Warlock now, after all! Second only to me within the order that I represent. One day, you might even eclipse me! But that will only happen if you get to that other tome and learn its' knowledge first, before I do. Winner takes all, they say!” and I asked her what sort of tribute she had in mind. “The pleasurable kind, of course!” she exclaimed, and began to remove her clothes as we sat together on the floor of the ritual chamber amid the sounds of beating drums and chanting acolytes of the dark order that I had come to understand at last. We made love, with passion as the tribute that I paid to my dark mistress. I fell asleep in her arms that night, and she in mine, but we could never fully comprehend each other's thoughts in their totality. Like me, she was something very much not quite human, save in outward appearances only... and I knew that it would be difficult to part form her side after so long in her service. Yet, following that night of love the days passed quickly and I knew I had go back home before my family thought that I had died or gone missing or something. I did not need them sending for a detective or getting the FBI involved... in an attempt to locate me. With my having been in another country at the time, I doubted they would even know where to begin looking in any case. I had been to Japan before, but that was with friends and on a legitimate vacation. My trip to Chile in 2004 was a totally different sort of business... and now, I had joined a very dark secret society that I could never tell my family about. And, had they known, I would never have been welcome back.
Camilla could not come with me, for the return trip. “I will be moving to Pennsylvania, in the United States, sometime within the next several years or so.” she told me on the day I went to leave Quicavi at last. “Not permanently, of course, but just for a little while. After that, I might travel to New England to do some more extensive research about the secret occult practices unique to that part of your country.” and following telling me all that she gave me a very passionate kiss, before whispering: “Who knows? We might even run into each other again sometime... outside of visions, or dreams, that is! And always remember, we do have people everywhere so you need not ever feel like you are far from the reach of the Righteous Province. Sometimes, you need not even seek us out... we can always find you, if direst need should arise requiring such measures! For now, just remember our kiss, and all I have taught you.” I asked her if I should take on any apprentices myself in the future, to which she replied cheerfully: “Of course you may, if you wish! But only teach our innermost secrets to the worthy. I do not mind if you end up choosing to write about your experiences here with us, so long as you are honest with all your words and portray us exactly as you saw here, not as we have been demonized in the minds of many.” And so... I decided to write about my experiences in Chile that year, once I got home. I jotted down my first notes on the subject while on the trip back to the United States, and once I was back I wrote more extensively about it, keeping my memoirs to myself and showing them to no one else. It is now a good many long years since then, and I thought it was time at last to turn to my memoirs and write from them this work that you are currently reading. I wrote in this work all that was fit to share of my time learning the “unholy” craft of the Master Warlock. In another era, I would be burned at the stake for what I have seen, and all I have learned and done. But there is a truth about forbidden knowledge that no church or religion would ever want you to know! Which is this: it is only forbidden to start with because there is a truth within it that people deeply fear to learn. I have willingly learned many such truths, over the years.
This is the true story of a supernatural event that happened to me during the summer of the year 2004...
There is a certain somewhat otherworldly place to be found in South America that, of old, the ancient indigenous peoples believed was located at the very ends of all the known lands of the earth. The place, this once sacred ground, lay around where the Maule River had since time immemorial emptied out into the Pacific Ocean. In the earliest years of the sixteenth century, as the great Incan Empire came sadly to its' end, there began a dark era, a time filled with shadows, in which things out of old legend took place. For to the south of that great river... there, did lie a land filled with mysterious happenings and a shroud of darkness that the ancient Incas feared to penetrate. Their gods did not dwell there, for other gods had walked in those lands in the time before the beginnings of time. Gods who watched as the waters of the ocean chilled and turned from blue to a dark black... gods who witnessed the struggles of those peoples who called that land their home, despite the harshness of the land itself. Was the land itself, the soil and the rocks, the roots of the trees and the sands of the beaches filled with malice... or, had the malice been within the hearts and souls of men and women, who merely though that the land was accursed? No one today living could say. There were whispers of witchcraft and sorcery, in those lands... and in the lands that lay beyond its' borders. In the old Incan tongue that land was called “The Place of the Seagulls”... and unto that place only the brave, the desperate, or the foolish might have sought to, heedless, venture.
Today, that land is still mysterious, although the encroachment of civilization upon it has so brought with it a certain degree of relief and release, from the shroud of darkness that the ancients once vividly imagined cloaked that place. For, approximately seven hundred miles to the north of that feared place, the great capital city of Santago lies... the capital of the modern nation of Chile. However, the ancient Place of the Seagulls is still a land steeped in legend, myth, tradition, and history. All of which is of a mysterious and deep nature that can seem hidden to those who first come to visit the place. A place that stretches on for longer than a thousand miles, all the way unto the boundaries of the Tierra del Fuego... the “Land of Fire”. The habitations in that land even today are sparse, and the land is lonely in countless places, as if the earth there had little use for human beings. Was the land filled with malice? One would not think it was so, upon visiting that region. At least not at first glance! At the heart of this domain you will find the remote island of Chiloé, where the rains fall with a fury matched only by the beauty of the colorful rainbows that such rains always seem to leave in their wake. Its' woods and forests are so often dark indeed, and mostly untouched by the callous hand of industry. In a bygone age, you might have oft encountered pirates and privateers plying their trade off of its' waters. During the nineteenth century, it was there that one of the last “witch trials” took place before the rise of the modern era. You would not know this, walking upon the shores of that island today! You would not guess that unseen, there are yet forces at work that the rational mind of science and the false protections of faith can never prepare one for. It was in Santiago that one Camilla Flores lived, and through her I became acquainted with ancient mysteries and black magical secrets... that, to the uninitiated, would seem to be truly forbidden things.
I had first met her over the old ICQ network, back during the early summer of 2004... while I was in a reading group's chatroom. It was an occult reading group, where I had mostly discussed my Gnostic and Pagan beliefs with like-minded people from all over the world. Camilla met me on there, and asked me if I would be interested in learning from her the absolute blackest of magics. I was, during that phase of my life, a student of the very darkest of mystical arts... for I had felt that somehow the lighter aspects of divinity and magic, had abandoned me. It was a difficult chapter of my life, and when I look back on it now I might have even been uncaring as to whether I lived or died, at the time. Camilla... intrigued me.
She was a mutual friend of a girl I knew on the ICQ network, although I had never met the girl in the flesh. Camilla sent me via email all manner of information on things relating to my past lives and all of my previous incarnations. All of those things were true, and I had never discussed them with either the girl I mentioned previously, or with Camilla herself. I was amazed, that she knew such intimate details of those lives of mine too, and more than a few about my current life that only close family had an idea about. I asked her how she knew these things, and she said that her order had an abiding interest in me. She said it was the “Age of the Dragon” now, and asked me what I though that meant. I told her, that I personally believed that it was time for those of us who are human in outward appearance only to soon reveal their true natures to the world, to usher in an age where people would be bound by only one law. Do as thou wilt! But harm none. She was pleased with my response... and said that she wished to meet with me in person to discuss these matters further. The strangest part was, she never discussed a place where we were to meet with me! She merely said: “I will see to everything. Ave Satani! And that was all I heard from her about this matter, she was never present in that chatroom ever again following that.
Later that week, I went up to the park for a walk since I was bored to tears at home and my family did not seem to understand me very well. I was thirty years old at the time, lonely for companionship... and already weary of the world. I was living in New England at the time, and although I appreciated all the beauty and history of that part of America, I kept feeling like I was missing something on a deep level. It was at the park that Camilla Flores decided to meet with me in person. She drove a black car, I had at the time paid no attention to either the make or model of it. She rolled down the window, called out to me by name and said: “Hey, come on over here! I want to talk to you.” and I did as she asked, though a part of me had a mind to run home after all. It was a feeling, just a dark feeling I could not explain. By the end of that August... she had arranged for the entire trip, for us to return with her to Santiago, Chile. On the way, she had told me all the history of it that she could remember by heart and many things you will not find in any history book, things she swore me to secrecy about. She was a beautiful woman, at least by my standards of beauty! A head shorter than myself, with light brown skin that had very slight reddish brown undertones. Deep brown eyes, long straight raven black hair parted neatly in the middle. She had full lips, almond shaped eyes, a stocky build and a husky sounding voice. She was around the same age as myself, perhaps a little older I thought. For our trip, she decided to wear a black women's pantsuit... although, she admitted that this choice was perhaps a little too formal for a casual vacation. It was a long drive out to Boston from my home state, and then a long flight from Boston to Santiago. But Camilla was at my side every step of the way, so I was never lonely or bored. She continued to intrigue me, and the more she taught me the more I longed to learn from her. She was wealthy, but never spoke of her family to me, although I talked with her about mine at length. “You do not get along well, with your family?” she asked me and I admitted that I did not. “That is a shame.” she stated in a sorrowful tone, and then added: “You cannot choose your family, regrettably.” and I sensed that she too had not been on good terms with her own flesh and blood. I was living as a man at the time, but dressed in an androgynous manner. Most of the clothing I packed for the trip were women's clothing or unisex. I had no use for men's clothing whatsoever, and was pleased to see... that Camilla did not mind my eccentric nature. “You just be yourself!” she said to me, assuring me that: “There will be no haters to fear of.” I had very long hair back then, brown with auburn and reddish highlights. I wore it in a high ponytail and even like that it was down to my waist. For our plane trip, I was dressed a whole lot more casually than Miss Flores had. Blue sweatpants, paired with a blue silk blouse with a wide neck and short sleeves. I wore a pair of flip-flop style sandals on my feet, a blue beaded bracelet around my left wrist, and I had on a silver necklace with a green yin-yang symbol pendant that hung from it. I brought with me things to write with, a black binder, and some white copy paper to write on. I had no idea, what I was in for!
After we landed in Santiago, Camilla had a long black limousine waiting for us... which drove us out to her mansion, outside of the city. That confirmed for me my suspicion that the woman was quite rich. During the drive out there, she asked me about my Native American heritage and I told her that I had in my veins blood from three different tribes. She asked me to name them... and I told her how they were Cherokee, Chippewa, and Shoshone. All from my mother, and from her mother before her. She saw my sallow skin tone, my almond-shaped blue eyes, my high cheekbones and my aquiline nose and realized that there was mixed blood within me, which was true. “I never knew my father.” I confessed to her, to which she replied: “Sometimes, that can be for the best.” and after a lengthy drive, we reached the large mansion, I was shown to a guest bedroom, and there I fell asleep and remained that way until morning. The whole trip up to that point was like a blur to me, and I barely paid much attention to minor details. I felt like I was running away from home, only my family knew I was on vacation and did not care. My mother had all but said “Good riddance!” to me before I left, and a part of me was deeply hurt about it. I had dark, tormented dreams my first night in Chile... and I realize now, it had been a dire premonition.
The mansion was beautiful... with white stucco walls, a columned porch, a lovely garden area, and all the modern conveniences you would expect. The interior, was filled with elegant statuary, paintings on many walls with quite a few of them being by local artists, fine draperies for every window, along with lacy curtains. There was a dining hall, a rather large kitchen... and enough rooms to house a big family. My own room there was like a fancy hotel's room. I took a bath, dried myself off with a towel, and got ready for the day. I wore a pair of long teal colored harem-style pants with a drawstring waist, which I paired with a long white tunic-style sleeveless top that came to about my thighs. I put on my bracelet and my necklace, put on some lilac scented perfume I had packed, and went to the dining hall to see if breakfast was ready. Camilla and I had our morning meal together. She was wearing a long black gown that was very low cut and showed her ample cleavage quite nicely. It was a sparkly kind of gown, like something you would see royalty or celebrities wear. It was simply fare, our breakfast. Just some toast, a hot sandwich known as a Barros Luco, some mashed potatoes, and a glass of milk to drink. We had some pastries for dessert, as well. It was very filling, more than enough for me. After that, I washed my hands, brushed my teeth, and Camilla decided it was time to show me to her private library. “You will find many rare books there, some with English translations which I have been working on... diligently.”
The library was huge, taking up two full floors of the mansion. It was filled with all manner of leather bound books, many without titles. There were some books by famous authors I recognized, mostly light fictional stuff of the fantasy, mystery, science fiction and horror genres. Camilla, was a fan of many of the same classics that I was myself fond of. The light from the chandelier lit the room warmly, as I had a look through several of the books that piqued my interest. There were countless occult book, tomes, manuscripts, and manuals. Some were in Spanish which I did not fully understand, only knowing bits of the language. But many were indeed hand translated into English, and these I looked over with great interest. They were about occult practices from all over the world, from Europe to the Middle East and all the way to Asia. Various sections of these texts mentioned the island of Chiloé, and many sentences and paragraphs were either highlighted or circled. “Ah! So you have noticed those segments.” she said to me in a somewhat purring tone of voice. “I plan to take you to the island in a couple of days. That is where you will learn the magical arts that I promised to teach you. Forget about Wicca! As far as I am concerned it is just glorified self-empowerment anyway. Never mind the elemental based magics, and the earth-bound rites of the Druids! They only have power over this world. What I am planning to show you, is something beyond. And, if you decide to become my apprentice... there will be other perks that come along with that position, which I think you will enjoy. Unless, your proclivities lie.. elsewhere?”
We were dressed mostly the same for our trip to the island, as we had been that day at the mansion... except we brought a couple of very light jackets with us in case of rain. “The storms out there, they can be rough sometimes.” Camilla told me, adding: “You really don't want to get caught out in it, when it gets torrential!” We drove by car most of the way, and it was a long drive with quite a few stops along the route we took. Santiago was very far behind us when the skies turned gray as we took some rather winding roads and back roads through the countryside. We had all the necessary shots prior to our trip, so I was not worried about getting sick with anything... but I was feeling a bit miserable all the same. “What is wrong?” Camilla asked me, putting her hand on my thigh. The driver pretended not to notice, but the friendly seeming man smiled a bit. “I cannot name it. Just these feelings of loneliness and such profound sorrow, as if I were feeling the whole world's pain sometimes.” and my hostess smiled wide, exclaiming: “Ah! You are gifted with the empathy then... just like me... watch out, because sometimes you won't just feel peoples' and places' emotions and vibes. You might pick up their thoughts as well!” In all it took us a good four days to reach the ferry that would take us to the island of Chiloé. On each night, we found decent enough accommodations given my hostess' money, and at least twice I had the feeling she was sneaking into my room to stare at me as I was falling asleep. I thought it was simply my imagination, however, and put it out of my head entirely. Eventually, we arrived at the town of Ancud, which is the second largest city on the island. A city whose history dated all the way back to 1768. It was a normal enough place, although sure as we had expected it was pouring rain that day. We waited out the rain at a local restaurant... where we had our supper and spent some time learning more about each other. I was forthcoming, while Miss Flores was as evasive and mysterious as she had ever been. Once the rain stopped, the sun came out and it was magnificent! Rich blue waters, azure skies, green hills, and many colorful houses which gave the community a certain charm. There were many thickly wooded areas, and the sun shone through those trees magnificently. “This is the public face of Chiloé, the quaint and simple facade that the government wants you to see.” Camilla explained, before going on and stating: “It is just that! A facade. I intend to show you a side of this island that is not apparent amid all this beauty and simplicity.” I laughed a bit, and replied: “I cannot wait.” She was not smiling.
I changed into a pair of loose black shorts and a red tank top, still favoring my sandals... prior to the hour long drive we ended up taking from Ancud all the way to Tenaún. Camilla herself, wore a short black leather miniskirt paired with a white camisole top and sandals similar to my own. “This will be a different experience than you might be used to.” she cautioned me, adding: “Let me do all the talking, and do not be afraid, not matter what you see or what happens.” I nodded in agreement but otherwise found that I had nothing to say. We eventually reached the village of Tenaún, and it was a surprisingly pleasant looking rural community not unlike many smalls towns I had seen in the United States where I had come from. There were a lot of small hills and dense trees, and there were dirt paths in places that gave the place a certain old world ambiance that I was fond of. A large wooden sign was there in one place, which listed historical events that took place as far back as the year 1567. Camilla informed me that Tenaún meant “three hills” in the language of the ancient native inhabitants of the region. “So, is the place you want to show me here in town?” I asked my hostess, who responded with a chuckle as she explained: “Oh, my goodness, no! It is further north... in Quicavi. In a place where many locals will tell you never to set foot. They will tell you, that devils and demons lie where we are going, and that if you go too far, too deep, you will lose your soul. They are foolish and silly! I intend to show you why.” And before we had much time to see any of the local sights in much detail we were headed way out of town already. “You seem to be in a great hurry!” I exclaimed to Camilla, and she said honestly: “Why not be in a hurry? We are not tourists here, we are not going to see the sights as you might imagine. I have a purpose in mind for this trip with you... and, we will not accomplish it by wasting hours of our time.”
By car, it was a lengthy drive northwards from Tenaún to the fishing village of Quicavi. It was almost nightfall by that hour, and I concluded that we must have simply lost track of time back in Ancud when we waited out the rainstorm. Quicavi turned out to be a rather tiny community, as far as villages go, but the countryside out that way was as beautiful as the rest of the island. However, with the onset of night, there were sinister shadows over everything... and a feeling of unease was growing inside of me, that I was finding harder and harder to explain away. “I suppose we will be spending the night here in town.” I suggested, to which Camilla laughed before curtly stating: “No. Our destination is further south of the village, more along the coast. Just follow me... we are nearly there now!” after which we walked along the coastal area to the south of the village's boundaries. “Miles of caves can be found out this way... and you could even venture into some and become lost, before finding yourself all the way south in Tenaún again.” she explained, before pointing in a very specific direction. “There is a ravine out that way!” she said, adding: “And, it is an old place... one of the oldest in all of creation. Come along, let me show you the place I speak of! You will like it, I promise.” She took me by the hand after that and led me down a series of trails which took us through some wild looking countryside. Dense trees, many bent or broken with age, abounded... and there were rocky stretches too, with patchy fields of grass. Wild flowers were abundant, but as we walked further along the trees grew more twisted and the ground almost marshy in places. Soon we came unto a rather small ravine... and the sound of fast flowing water, could be heard. There was a stream at the very bottom of that ravine, and it flowed from out the rocks and on as far as that ravine went, and perhaps further beyond sight than I may have realized. The green of the earth was all around us, the ground mossy and spongy where we stood overlooking the ravine below. “It is small, but it goes on for a long way.” I said, and Camilla nodded. “There is a place down there that is hidden.” She explained, before motioning for me to follow her down into the ravine by way of several winding pathways and trails that seemed perilous looking but which were actually quite safe if one was careful.
Once we were at the bottom, of the ravine... we walked over to a place where there was some grass, vines, dirt and rocks piled up in a way that looked deliberate. Camilla pushed all of those things aside, and revealed a sturdy looking old wooden door set into the side of the rocky earthen wall before us. A metal lock was attached to the door, and Camilla took a tiny key out of her skirt's pocket and unlocked the door, opening it with a loud creak. “This is it! Come with me... your world is about to change.” she said in a sinister tone of voice. Inside, there was a long tunnel that was dimly lit with peculiar smelling torches. There was an earthy scent about everything, and the air was hot and humid. The tunnel went on for some time, but eventually... it opened up into a large circular chamber in which there were very old and ancient looking cave paintings upon the walls depicting various scenes form local myths, lore, and legends. Camilla pointed to one that showed two gigantic serpents that seemed to be locked in combat. She told me: “This depicts Tenten Vilu and Caici Vilu, two primordial serpent gods from an age long before recorded history. They fought a titanic battle, it is said, and from the destruction and debris that was hurled about due to it... these islands and more were formed.” Suddenly, I could hear a horrendous sound that was like a person moaning and groaning from an upset stomach. It was a man's voice, or at least the approximation of such. Out of an adjoining cave came two horribly disfigured and deformed individuals. One, was a naked man with his head twisted around backwards. He walked using his two hands and one of his legs, with the other being stitched or somehow otherwise grafted unto the back of his neck. His face was horrible to look upon, and he had wild white hair and an unkempt looking white beard. He had a gash in his back and his spine was actually exposed in places. He was covered in all manner of cuts, scars, and scratches. Some looked like lash marks! The other creature looked also like a man, totally naked as well, but walking on all fours like an animal and wearing a mask that resembled the head of a horned goat. Both of these... things... were the source of truly disgusting groaning noises.
“Show them no fear... and they will allow us to pass.” Camilla explained. “They are the Chivato and the Invunche.” she explained, adding: “Guardians of these caverns.” and I treated them much like one might treat domesticated animals, allowing them their spaces as Camilla and I worked our way around them and into the deeper caverns they had come out from. “I helped to make them as they are.” she had told me as we walked along, elaborating: “Perhaps sometime I might show you the process!” but I had no wish to see it... and so, I just nodded silently and allowed her to lead me to wherever it was that we were supposed to be going. We next came to a set of living chambers which appeared more modern in their own way than I had expected for a place like this. There was a generator set up there, and the air was kept cooler. “It was not always like this... but we must have our conveniences in this day and age.” Camilla noted aloud. We passed by several rough corridors with side rooms containing that I could only term “laboratories”. In one of them, a naked teenage girl was being attended by several men and women wearing green gowns of somewhat native looking design. The girl was being induced to vomit... until she appeared quite sick. Then, a mask shaped like a rook bird was sewn unto her head. Into the mouth of the mask was poured some kind of potion that the people attending the girl had been brewing using alchemy equipment. A cloak that appeared to be made of black feathers was then places around the girl who made some of the most horrible noises that I have ever heard a human being make. “That is called La Voladora.” Camilla told me, going on to explain: “When they are completed, they make for the ideal spies, messengers, and couriers between our various covens. Only the ones we use underground end up being given the appearance of birds... the ones we use in the outside world remain human in their most outward appearance. Within, however, they are no longer as such!” These were indeed some of the very blackest of all the black arts being conducted in this domain beneath Quicavi. They used combinations of science, medicine, and magic in order to do things... that some might consider to be unspeakable. To tell of all the horrors I witnessed within that place, would be too much for the scope of this work. So, I shall suffice it to say, that it was very much like unto being guided through all the circles of Hell itself.
Initiates into Camilla's order, I was told... were required to symbolically wash away all traces of their Christian baptism. “The Spanish forced their religions down my ancestors throats in ages past.” said my hostess to me, before she further told me: “That, is why we require that all of those new to us renounce such false religions, so that they might return to the old gods and the ancient ways that we teach here.” Some were fanatical in how they went about it, too! Many chose to bathe in freezing waters over at the Traiguén river, some for as long as fifteen consecutive nights during which they were given only some hot toast to warm themselves with. Some died as a result of this, unsurprisingly. Others fell ill, and just barely were able to recover after that ordeal. None of them had to do this! A simple cold shower would have sufficed, Camilla told me, but there were always those who wanted to show their commitment in extreme ways. She also mentioned: “We never demand the taking of a life, only a symbolic shedding of one's own blood. It can be as tiny as a pinprick or a small cut, and that would satisfy our traditions. But some in the past have actually felt driven to murder a close friend or a dear relative, and were surprised that we expelled them from our order. These are not the days in which the first Council of the Cave had a mind to make such demands, for whatever perverse reasons they had for doing so. Today, we try to be at least a little more civilized with our methods. We do not even use waistcoats of human flesh, which were too hot anyway, unlike our ancestors of old.” Regarding the waistcoats, I was not certain at all if she was joking with me or completely serious. I suspected it was a little bit of both actually. We came at last to a great ritual chamber from which the sounds of drumbeats and chanting resounded, echoing through the caves, caverns, and tunnels as we approached. I was the first outsider to be allowed within this place in centuries, I was told. “But you are hardly an outsider to me!” Camilla said mysteriously. I had no idea what she meant, nor the kinds of things that I was presently about to become embroiled in.
Within the middle of the ritual chamber... a massive circular room with a ceiling filled with countless stalactites... there was a series of concentric layers that went on progressively lower and deeper into the ground. At the very bottom was a black pit from which emerged tendrils of smoke. The walls had many tapestries hung from them, with various native designs particular to the Mapuche, and other indigenous groups, some of the names of which I had never heard before. The walls of that chamber also contained various doorways, tunnels, and passages leading deeper into darkness. Some, were shut behind doors... and others were like open maws. Camilla, took me down toward the dark pit at the deepest point of the chamber, where there were various ritualistic objects lying about, some on old wooden tables, some on the tops of small stone pedestals, some simply on the cavern floor. She told me to kneel in front of her, and as I did so she took a very plain looking gray chalice and filled it with water from a nearby basin. She used that to anoint me, while chanting in one of the native languages of the region. She then asked of me: “Do you hereby renounce your Christian baptism, and the name your parents gave you? Do you renounce the falsehoods of the Church, the lies of the Vatican, and the deceptions that are perpetrated in the name of Christ and the Virgin Mary?” I said without a bit of reservation: “I do!” and she poured the rest of the water over my head before instructing me to dry myself with a towel that lay on the floor just next to the basin. She then took out a black tricorn hat and I saw that within was a human skull. If it had not been a real skull, it was certainly very convincing looking! Camilla then tossed the skull out of the head and instructed me to try and catch it, which I did. My hands trembled a bit and I nearly dropped it after it was in my hands, but in the end I had it firmly within my grasp. “Now, throw it down into the pit below, and say the word 'arrealhue' exactly as I have pronounced it.” she further had instructed. I did as she had told me, saying the word precisely and correctly, being careful not to mispronounce it even in the slightest. Once that was finished, and the skull was lost in the pit below, Camilla proudly stated: “Welcome, my child, to the inner circle of the Righteous Province, as we call this place. We are known by many names, but most simply call us the Majority, for we are the true power here in these lands. Our influence extends far beyond Chile's borders as well, for it was not easy for me to get you on board that plane when you lacked a passport. I had one forged for the occasion, however... and it was convincing. Should you decide to return to the United States again, be certain to destroy it once you are back home, since I doubt it would hold up with repeated uses. But that is in the future! For now, make yourself at home, and avail yourself of all the knowledge and arts that we possess and can teach you. I shall give you a new name now, once by which you will be called within our order. Never reveal it to outsiders!” and she gave me the name... which I shall not write even here, because I was sworn to keep it a secret.
A great feast was held on the following night, after which I was taught various occult arts, disciplines and secrets that went far beyond the indigenous traditions of the ancient peoples of that island. Some of them could be traced farther and farther back into even the shadows of prehistory, when primordial and strange gods and goddesses held sway over a world that still humanity had yet to walk upon the surface of. There were threads of those teachings I learned that wound their way to Atlantis, Lemuria, Mu and later to Sumeria, Babylon, Egypt and all of the most ancient of humankind's civilizations. But here, the most primal forms of such traditions held the greatest sway, coupled with the darkest kinds of wisdom and knowledge. “One does not ask... to join us... one is asked.” Camilla confided to me once in passing, so that I could comprehend the honor that she had extended to me. “Why me, though?” I asked her once and she replied: “Because, I know who you really are... here...” and she pointed to her left breast as she said that. “And here!” she exclaimed, pointing to the area on her head where the spiritual “third eye” is believed to exist on people. I studied so many works of dark magic in that place, participated in rituals and took part in rites that should have rendered me insane. I became a warlock in that time, and grew in not just magical power but in the greater wisdom of knowing when not to use any such arts frivolously.
The final day of my stay in that place was nearing, although at the time I knew it not. Camilla led me into a hidden area behind a stone wall that could be push inward to reveal a long-forgotten passageway. It led down into a subterranean realm of such awe-inspiring magnitude that it felt like we had crossed over into another world entirely. A great underground stream ran through that place, and the sounds of dripping water echoed throughout the cavernous halls. That place was untouched by human hands, and yet for some reason it was important to this dark order. Camilla showed me to a place where skeletons were shackled to great pillars of rock, and where piles of human skulls... real ones, I knew now, just as the one I had thrown into the pit was... were heaped about in places. Incredibly old blood stains could be seen, and I knew that these long dead people had perished quite violently. I was wearing one of the green gowns of the order, while Camilla Flores wore a black one of similar design. “This is a place that of old was where the first rulers of the Righteous Province hid the greatest of their treasures.” she told me, pointing off down a certain direction and exclaiming: “Down there, and I will allow you to see our great black grimoire!” Thus, we went... and before long we came to a place which was being used as a kind of makeshift crypt. The dead were interred on raised slabs within alcoves hollowed out in the cave walls. I gazed there upon the skeletons of the first, ancient leaders of Camilla's order, who slumbered in that place, never to wake again. On the far wall of that extensively long chamber, there was a wooden table upon which were two candles, one black and one red. The whole time we had been down in this area, Camilla had been using a flashlight, but now she produced a match from a pocket in her gown and lit both of the candles, which provided some dim, warm light. I then saw that also upon that table was a worn leather-bound journal and a thick tome-like book that appeared to be bound in human flesh. Upon the surface of it was drawn some kind of arcane symbol etched in blood. It was honestly like witnessing a scene from a horror movie, only this was actually real, and shocking! “Open it.” Camilla commanded me... and I did as she begged. But, no sooner had I cast that book open... than I beheld a strange flash of light followed by a deep mist and dark shadows which rolled into the chamber out of nowhere. I spun around and the whole place seemed to pulsate, to shift before my eyes, and there were peculiar sounds and noises that were horrific to hear. Camilla was nowhere to be seen, and at far end of that chamber... all the way back to where we had first entered the crypt area... I beheld a young Mapuche girl dressed in a long red gown. Her features were indistinct, and she had a ghostly quality to her. “Who are you, and what do you want with me?” I asked, to which the girl replied: “My name was once Chilpilla, and I had been the first of this great tribe of tribes that you now follow. I was given the black grimoire, by a man who had come to us from another nation across the waters... a foolish, vain and egotistical man whose name was José de Moraleda y Montero. It was roughly around the year of 1786 A.D. He attempted to challenge me, to best my magic with his own. And he failed! I caused his boat to falter, to crash, and so to run aground... and he was forced to admit his defeat at my hands. To ensure that no ill will could lay between us, he gave me one of his journals and the black grimoire that even he dared never open. But I opened it after he had departed! I learned its' secrets, and other shamans like myself came to be taught those secrets from me. Some from the Machi, some from the Kalku, and some from more distant and varied tribes still! They came, and a great council was formed. The first such council, but not the last! My own bones lay here someplace, in a chamber that no one has ever seen. If you would gaze upon the pages of the black grimoire, then know this... I will be watching. If you are worthy, you will not die! If you are found to be false, then you shall never leave this place with breath still in your lungs. Farewell.” And following that, the chamber was back to normal and I was standing before the book, about to open it and read what it contained. I did so... but could not understand the words for they were written partly in Arabic, partly in Greek, and partly in Spanish, with the Spanish having been seemingly a translation. “I can teach you its' secrets, if you are not afraid! I have studied them since I was a child.” Camilla had informed me. I told her that I wished to be taught those secrets... before my time to leave, was at hand.
It took some time to learn everything that had been within that terrible book... it was well on into the first part of September when Camilla was satisfied that she had nothing left to teach me. She told me a final secret in passing: “There is a second such tome, that I have glimpsed in dreams... somewhere out there, perhaps not even on this world but in some other... and it is whispered that only the Devil might be able to comprehend what is contained within its' pages. I might go seeking it someday by means of either a vision quest or through dream walking. When that day comes, I will take you along with me... so that we can seek it out together. But first, I think it is time that you paid me the tribute that is due at the end of one's apprenticeship. You are a Master Warlock now, after all! Second only to me within the order that I represent. One day, you might even eclipse me! But that will only happen if you get to that other tome and learn its' knowledge first, before I do. Winner takes all, they say!” and I asked her what sort of tribute she had in mind. “The pleasurable kind, of course!” she exclaimed, and began to remove her clothes as we sat together on the floor of the ritual chamber amid the sounds of beating drums and chanting acolytes of the dark order that I had come to understand at last. We made love, with passion as the tribute that I paid to my dark mistress. I fell asleep in her arms that night, and she in mine, but we could never fully comprehend each other's thoughts in their totality. Like me, she was something very much not quite human, save in outward appearances only... and I knew that it would be difficult to part form her side after so long in her service. Yet, following that night of love the days passed quickly and I knew I had go back home before my family thought that I had died or gone missing or something. I did not need them sending for a detective or getting the FBI involved... in an attempt to locate me. With my having been in another country at the time, I doubted they would even know where to begin looking in any case. I had been to Japan before, but that was with friends and on a legitimate vacation. My trip to Chile in 2004 was a totally different sort of business... and now, I had joined a very dark secret society that I could never tell my family about. And, had they known, I would never have been welcome back.
Camilla could not come with me, for the return trip. “I will be moving to Pennsylvania, in the United States, sometime within the next several years or so.” she told me on the day I went to leave Quicavi at last. “Not permanently, of course, but just for a little while. After that, I might travel to New England to do some more extensive research about the secret occult practices unique to that part of your country.” and following telling me all that she gave me a very passionate kiss, before whispering: “Who knows? We might even run into each other again sometime... outside of visions, or dreams, that is! And always remember, we do have people everywhere so you need not ever feel like you are far from the reach of the Righteous Province. Sometimes, you need not even seek us out... we can always find you, if direst need should arise requiring such measures! For now, just remember our kiss, and all I have taught you.” I asked her if I should take on any apprentices myself in the future, to which she replied cheerfully: “Of course you may, if you wish! But only teach our innermost secrets to the worthy. I do not mind if you end up choosing to write about your experiences here with us, so long as you are honest with all your words and portray us exactly as you saw here, not as we have been demonized in the minds of many.” And so... I decided to write about my experiences in Chile that year, once I got home. I jotted down my first notes on the subject while on the trip back to the United States, and once I was back I wrote more extensively about it, keeping my memoirs to myself and showing them to no one else. It is now a good many long years since then, and I thought it was time at last to turn to my memoirs and write from them this work that you are currently reading. I wrote in this work all that was fit to share of my time learning the “unholy” craft of the Master Warlock. In another era, I would be burned at the stake for what I have seen, and all I have learned and done. But there is a truth about forbidden knowledge that no church or religion would ever want you to know! Which is this: it is only forbidden to start with because there is a truth within it that people deeply fear to learn. I have willingly learned many such truths, over the years.
Published 1st Jun 2022
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8th Jun 2022 3:16am
Oh, Kara! I remember that year like it was yesterday. Glad to see you do too! Trip of a lifetime, wasn't it? And we both learned so much from each other. And we even fell in love! But some things never change, cuz I still love you. Probably even more now than then even. So there! Been enjoying reading your stuff on here tonight and talking with you darling. I send you kisses once again in case you didn't get the others I sent yet!
8th Jun 2022 4:05am
I got all of your kisses and sent you some sweet kisses too! There are just some memories you never want to forget and for me this was one of them. I mean, as dark as things were sometimes and as weird as it all might seem to some, I had a great time with you that year! And I fell deeply in love with you, as well. I feel the same about you! Like what we had has just become more intense over time, and not less. I give you countless kisses, without end, my beautiful moonlight flower! ;)
