|05-21-2018, 09:17 PM||#1|
Join Date: Feb 2018
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DOUBLE ARYAN: a story ------part 1
DOUBLE ARYAN: a story https://www.bitchute.com/video/2xE907g4kANH/
Scene: Long Island, NY, Don Palumbo’s Compound
The Sicilian Don paced back and forth inside his plush office across his Persian rug as he glanced at his diamond-encrusted Rolex watch – ‘late again!’ he fumed muttering under his breath. He grasped the decanter of 50-year-old brandy and filled his crystal goblet, ham fist nearly breaking it in rage. ‘Fifteen minutes late – too late…’, setting the goblet down on his mahogany desk he opened a drawer by its brass handle and a spring-loader holster containing an odd-shaped gun sprung out. He looked up into the nervous eyes of the rat-faced man on the leather sofa who swallowed and looked with wide eyes and shrinking pupils into the granite face of the Don who bent over the desk as if rummaging for papers, the gun invisible from the point of view of the rat-faced man who took a swig of brandy from his glass, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead and greasy dago hair. “You’ve been with my organization for two years – that right Jakie?”
The man stammered a reply, “Bout that Don Palumbo…” The man was too nervous and intimidated to correct the Don in addressing him by the name his mother, the Don’s cousin, called him. The Don, not expressing his emotions, took amusement in emphasizing the name by way of disparagement knowing the man detested being belittled even by the Don himself. The Don continued, “That man you recommended me to hire – what was his name?” Jakie jumped in his seat knowing that he was accountable for having the man, who was fifteen minutes late, hired and that the Don’s use of the past tense meant that the man was finished in this world. “Just give him another chance, Don Palumbo, I swear he must have some excuse – I swear on my grandmother’s grave – just, just give him another chance.” The Don appeared to ponder his words weighing them as if this decision had not already been made and could be overridden or swayed by his cowardly nephew. “Will you answer for him Jacob,” this time using his proper name. “I swear Don Palumbo, I swear!” The Don beckoned his nephew forward around the desk and Jacob stopped short seeing the glistening gun projected from the drawer only now visible. “Something wrong?” the Don queried nonchalantly. “What’re you gonna do, Don Palumbo?
You’re not gonna ice me are ya?” The Don appeared taken aback and looked with wounded reproach at his nephew. “Would I make your mother lose a son? We’re family. No, the gun is not for you – at least not to dispose of you. No you are gonna make right your mistake of hiring that good-for-nothing.” “But…you said…” Jacob stammered. “You stated you would answer for him,” the Don stated matter-of-factly. “Does the thought of blood disturb you” “We’s like brothers Don Palumbo,” Jacob whined, supplicated the Don’s pardon, “we been through thick and thin together. Could you…could you just give him another chance?” At this a knock was heard at the door, that specially decided upon between the Don and his right-hand man, Stern. The Don looked icily at the prostrate Jacob who kneeled before his Don in religious supplication but then Jacob nervously arose in embarrassment upon hearing the knocking, dabbing his brow of sweat with his mismatched handkerchief a purple silk on olive-coloured suit. He looked towards the door. The Don buzzed Stern in who escorted an equally nervous man dressed in rakish apparel with a bright orange suit and shiny shoe buckles. Stern looked at the Don with a look of significance as if of reproach for both Jacob and the man
The door was closed and Stern remained within barring the exit of the man. Don Palumbo repeated his prior statement still yet unanswered by Jacob: “Does the thought of blood disturb you?” Jacob’s knees weakened and his Adams’ apple bobbed up and down, “I…I…don’t know… I…can’t Don Palumbo, I can’t…” at which conclusion he stooped forward with head and eyes bowed before the Don not looking at his friend. The Don appeared to consider, and let his features soften. He reached out his arm and drew his nephew towards him in a gesture of reconciliation, Jacob reciprocating his apparent familial kindness. “You were always a softie Jakie!” At which pronunciation the Don wrapped both arms around his nephew and squeezed hoisting him up into the air at the Don’s full height. The nephew squealed at the pressure of the Don’s massive arms enwreathing him like two anacondas squeezing the life force out of him.
Jacob attempted to pull away and struggle beating the Don wildly as his face empurpled, eyeballs protruding and cranial and jugular veins standing out like ropes on his beet-coloured skin usually a pale opalescent. One final gasp of panic and Jacob fell limp into the arms of the Don who dropped him to the floor like a sack of groceries.
The man near the couch stared open-mouthed in horror both at the prodigious strength of the Don and in expectation of the same treatment. The Don spoke: “Jakie said he’d answer for you, you need have no fear.” The man let out a ragged sigh of relief and opened his mouth to speak but was silenced by the Don’s beckoning gesture. He approached to the desk from in front and the Don leaned over concealing the gun from view. He queried, “What did you find out?” The man answered stammering that he couldn’t find where the girl was dropped off. That he had lost the tail and that traffic was too dense. The Don said: “Jakie answered for your lateness. I can forgive you…that.” The Don extended his ring and offered it to the man to kiss. “Swear you’ll do better next time.” The man stammered again and stated he would. “Kiss the ring,” the Doninstructed. The man brought his lips to the ring and upon contact was engulfed in a wave of blue electrical fire, the ring discharging millions of volts into the man’s body which was held against the ring by the Don’s hand, tendrils of blue fire licking his ham fist with no visible effect or harm. the man was smoking, his body trembling uncontrollably in rictus. Suddenly the electricity stopped and the smoking body fell to the floor on the Persian rug. The Don looked upon the corpse which was curled in the fetal position and smiled a satisfied smile. His law was infallible for he served the One who ruled the world from behind the veil of appearances, and who demanded sacrifice by way of propitiation.
Scene: alleyway behind Ivan’s Grocery
Sieg and Tod, two white male youths in their late teens, are practicing martial arts with a heavy- bag hanging from a fire escape. Sieg, a blonde-haired, athletic youth is doing roundhouse kicks against the bag held by the darker-haired Tod. “C’mon Sieg you can strike harder than that!
Even the Coonskin gang can strike that” – mention of the Coonskins elicited a rage response from Sieg who landed a forceful kick against the heavy-bag knocking Tod sprawling into a pile of fruit crates – which broke under his 175 pounds of lean body mass. Arising to his feet Tod congratulated his brother: “That’s more like it…” he said not fully confident in his words still rubbing his back. Both brothers had been orphaned in their youth, their mother having been raped and murdered by the Coonskin gang who had viewed both her and her husband as easy prey. They had both fallen for the preachments of egalitarian dogma with its emotive slogans of ‘Brotherhood’, ‘One Love’, etc. and so had decided to volunteer in the ‘underprivileged’ neighbourhood out of sympathy for the media portrayal of the negro youth. Their confrontation with the culture of the negro ended nearly as soon as it had begun – through abduction and cruel voodoo ritual torture by the negro gang youth who were practitioners of their vile ‘culture’, one of predation, bloodlust, and licentious self-gratification at the expense of others if need be. Indeed the principle ‘do no harm’ was the very antithesis of their black creed.
The two boys were adopted by kind-hearted Ivan, a recent émigré from the old country who had lost his wife in the holodomor under the Jewish tyranny of Eastern Europe. Having no means to pass on his legacy however economically humble he had made the decision to take under his wing the two boys who were in need of a home and were of sound genetic stock even that exceeding Ivan’s who was a former military officer in the old country. He needed protégés to pass on his initiatic tradition, a most ancient teaching that made of its practitioner an apotheosized god-man whose martial arts skills were no mere mechanical endeavour but were the seat of occult power used to combat the dark forces which governed the terrestrial plane and the city in which he now lived, the crucible of vice, New York.
Sieg and Tod moved on to the next part of their training session that of harnessing the occult power they were in process of developing to manifest as a concentrated projectile weapon, a ball of energy gathered from the aether which pervaded their surroundings, interpenetrated them and constituted the very fabric of reality. They established a target constructed of wooden vegetable crates with a drawing of a Coonskin member head and face, wearing the characteristic black bandana of the gang with its red fist patch.
Recalling the pain and suffering of their lost parents at the hands of this savage gang, Sieg and Tod both positioned themselves into a ready stance, knees bent, torso erect, and hands cupped facing one another. They concentrated their forces within breathing regularly and slowing their sympathetic nervous system function, reducing their heart rate and concentrating their energies within, drawing in energy from without through the creation of a vortex focusing its development within the space created between their cupped hands. A small vortex of energy opened up gradually widening to the inner surface of the hands. They were on the brink of its release and direction at the target when – “Boys, boys, we got customers!” the old man Ivan broke in, the energy balls not fully developed flew off in a wild direction and ignited one of the boxes which the old man rushed to douse with the herbal tea he carried. Then, beating out the flame from the smouldering wreckage he cried, “You must concentrate boys – no interruption should prevent your striking the target! But now – go and serve the customers for we must have bread and the hooknose tax farmer has been by today already. Hurry to your posts boys!” The two scrambled to assist the customers leaving Ivan in the alleyway who took a moment to ponder as he looked over the tops of the skyscrapers to The Source Of All – “Will they ever be ready? They must be for soon the Cabal will make its move.” He turned and attended to his duties.
Scene: Adams’ Manor: Kristina Adams, daughter of the industrial magnate and philanthropist, Colonel Adams, shared in her father’s zeal for assisting the poor. She had only recently started attending the soup kitchen at the encouragement of one of her classmates, Esther Glumwitz, one of the ‘innocent’ Jews whose grandmother was killed in the holocaust by the Nazis as Esther had told her. Kristina didn’t entirely understand the history of the 3rd Reich and what had gone on or what motivation Hitler might have had in persecuting the Jews but she sympathized with Esther who, though a fabulously wealthy society woman from Manhattan, appeared to have undergone great suffering through the trauma of this historical event and though not having had any direct involvement in it nevertheless took on the suffering of her grandparent. In fact every time Kristina made mention of her family history Esther was quick to reference her grandmother and the Nazis. This seemed out of place to Kristina and perhaps even intended as a subtle reproach against her, as if she herself were to blame for the historical events she had only second-hand knowledge of and could see no way how they connected to herself and her family. However these allusions of Esther still left her with a strange witch’s brew of feelings of shame, guilt, and obligation to Esther and the Jews as a whole. Her attendance at the soup kitchen though primarily motivated by altruism was directed away from her initial desire to help the white youth she had seen gathered in the street and seemingly malnourished, dressed in rags. Though many of these were also gathered in the food bank line it was mainly populated by negros and mestizos many of whom were dressed in expensive name-brand clothing and had gold jewellery on their bodies and were loudly declaiming against ‘white privilege’, ‘white supremacy’, and ‘racism’ which they seemed to give expression to as weapons directed against those who were bestowing free things upon them as charity. Esther was also stating that ‘we whites were evil and owed all the minorities’ for past injustices, etc. These types of statements elicited doubt in the mind of Kristina as the Jewish background of Esther was clearly not white? Why would Esther say these things to the minorities if she were Jewish? Nevertheless Kristina continued to ladle out soup and hand out cheese and tins of sardines to the non-whites always making sure to smile and behave in a friendly manner. Perhaps they were only hostile towards her because they had been ‘kept down’ and ‘persecuted’ as Esther had been? Still the idea that ‘white folks’ as one of the negros referred to white people were capable of ‘slavery and colonialism’ in some hateful and evil way didn’t correspond to her own lived experience of white people and their behaviour. She continued to ladle out soup attempting to be of good spirits.
On another occasion she encountered Esther in conversation with some blacks outside of her prep school before they were to go down to the soup kitchen. The blacks looked with arched eyebrow at Kristina and then back to Esther who signalled to them with her own strange look the meaning of which was unintelligible to Kristina suggested somehow a compact between the two, a secret relationship of some sort.
Esther left the group which stared at Kristina in a silent mockery, sardonic looks plastered to their faces, concealing a none-too-subtle malevolence. Esther approached saying that they would be late for the soup kitchen if they didn’t hurry. On the way there the chauffer kept looking back through the rear-view mirror and Kristina was curious as to what he was looking at, her eyes drifted towards the mirror scanning it intermittently as Esther played with her phone communicating with someone, a smirk playing about her features. A souped-up ’64 Impala was following them as this was the only vehicle Kristina saw throughout their ride. Before catching sight of the soup kitchen the chauffeur veered off into an alleyway and the ’64 followed all but blocking the rear-view mirror with its closeness of proximity. The limousine ground to a halt with the driver rolling up the electronically controlled divider between front and back passenger seat. Kristina was startled by this turn in events and began to speak but stopped as she observed Esther leap out of the limousine and slam the door behind her. The chauffeur locked the doors with child safety lock in place effectually imprisoning Kristina who, panicking, began to beat against the door and window with her shoe heel attempting to break through the bulletproof glass windows. She shouted to be let out as she continued her fruitless exertions observing that the ‘64’s occupants were exiting the car and that Esther and the driver were conferring with the crew of negros who were attired in what looked to be gang uniforms, a black bandana and a red fist patch covering their heads, their torsos clothed in ostentatious colours and limbs covered with tattoos and gold bracelets and watches. They congregated around Esther who laughed saying, “She’s all yours boys,” to which their apparent leader a huge black with deep bestial voice stated, “Cracka ho gonna pay her dues!” Just as she was observing the group breaking up and the four negros approaching the vehicle in which she was imprisoned, two aside, she witnessed two other figures come into the scene she was watching through the rear window, one blonde and one darker-haired muscular white youths.
The dark-haired youth accosted the chauffer and Esther with a question: “What do you think you’re doing here?!” The chauffer reached into his jacked and Esther into her purse both at the same time withdrawing gleaming metal objects which appeared to be guns. The two white youths gave a snap-kick to the jaw of both, effectually dispatching them into unconsciousness. Meanwhile the two sets of negros were rushing towards the youths talking about ‘donchu touch mah money muhfuka! Dats muh meal-ticket!’ They reached into their pockets the two nearest the youths for their guns but were met with a roundhouse to the skull which left them swaying drunkenly given the protection afforded by their thick negro skulls, a sweep kick knocked them off their feet and an elbow to the Adams’ apple dispatched them from this world. The two other negros were upon them and attempted to slash them with their switchblades, alternately thrusting and slashing with frenetic mania at their hated white foes who adroitly dodged the gleaming blades. Tod, the dark-haired youth snap-kicked the blade out of the onrushing negros hand and followed up with another to the face whilst Seig ducked a slashing blow and sent a fist into the solar plexus of his foe, tangling up with his feet and burying his own knife in his belly pulling it out with a gush of blood and slicing across his throat for the finisher. Tod did a
roundhouse to his assailant’s head and then a knee to his belly; whilst the negro beast curled in winded pain Tod brought his elbow smashing down on the cervical vertebrae of his foe shattering his spine. The two brothers inquired of each other if they had any injuries and discovering none they formulated a plan to dispatch the bodies of the negros. They approached the limousine and opened the doors after retrieving the keys from the chauffer. Kristina stepped out of the vehicle and was assisted by the brothers asking if they had been hurt, to which the brothers responded that they would only be hurt if she were. She stated she was fine but what was to be done now? The brothers asked if she knew these negros to which she responded in the negative. They told her they were of the Coonskin gang and that if the other two (indicating Esther and the chauffer) had any dealings with them they were just as corrupt. The two began to come to, Esther moaning and looking around eyes suddenly lighting upon Kristina who stood over her with a hostile expression on her face. “Bitch!” she spat smacking Esther back into unconsciousness. The two brothers were monitoring the chauffer who gazed up at them with a rat-like expression of fear and anger, eyes darting around for an escape route.
“Looks like another Jew devil,” Seig said, fully aware of the plague upon the white civilization that the Jews represented as Ivan had instructed both him and his brother through his pedagogical influence and personal background as a military officer. “Clearly they were seeking to make you their sacrifice and use the negros as their tools. This is the secret relationship between blacks and Jews one of reciprocal use and abuse, reciprocal hatred and yet mutual dependency. The negros hung around Jews for the gain they acquire through the Jew’s master- minding of their evil devices. This has been their relationship since before time on this earth according to occult lore.” Kristina responded, “I thought this bitch, Esther, was attempting to create a negative situation for me given her apparent insinuations with the negros in the soup kitchen and other places that white people were an evil group who had committed all manner of past injustices. Given the evidence the evil appears to lie with them.” So saying she gave a swift kick to the body of Esther which elicited a reaction of feral survival instinct from the prostrate form. The chauffer too was still seeking a way out looking at the brothers for signs of weakness, for a window of escape with his beady black rat’s eyes. The trio of victors were contemplating the next course of action. Looking down they noticed a yellow star tattooed on the hand of Esther. “The star of Remphan,” Seig declared calling attention to the tattoo with a gesture. “They are members of the cabal.” “The Cabal?” queried Kristina. “Yes,” replied Tod, “it is the Jewish cult who worships The One, the evil dark force which has gotten hold of this world and is enslaving the population, attempting to use their non-whites to freeload off the system and eventually to use as fodder in a revolution against the whites.” They both looked at Tod in astonishment at his emotional outburst, but Seig corroborated his brother’s statements saying “once we dispatch these bodies perhaps you would like to have a discussion about this issue with us. As you can see even in this particular instance the general principles which my brother Tod has spoken of apply: these negros were hired goons of these two Jews here to attempt to sacrifice you for whatever reason…” he was abruptly cut off as he observed Tod pull back and whip a throwing knife he carried past Seig’s chest on a downward arch. Seig turned abruptly to see the chauffeur holding a small derringer in his dying hand gasping out his breath without the strength to get a shot off. Muscles spasming in rictus, nerves sending interrupted signals to his limbs being poorly guided and controlled by a dying brain. He slumped to the ground and his companion eyed the brothers with stereotypically Jewish rat-like ferility. “My name’s Seig by the way,” he stated addressing Kristina, who replied in kind introducing herself to the brothers. “We will have to dispose of the bodies,” said Seig, and looking around they observed the ’64 Impala. The bodies were lying about and Seig indicated the vehicle stating: “We can drive this vehicle into an old abandoned construction site I know of and give the two Jews the holocaust they’ve all been wanting – only this time it will be they who pay for the sins of their fathers as well as their own.” Accordingly the trio began striping the bodies of their ostentatious jewellery which the brothers intended to sell as a means of paying some of old Ivan’s debts to the loan sharks of the cabal to whom he was indebted for ‘protection money’ and to pay a tariff on his imported goods to the Cabal’s middle man, an importer of foods from Israel and the middle east, mainly Saudi Arabia which the Cabal had coerced Ivan to adopt as his sole connection. Thus Ivan had been put into thrall to the Jewish cult of which Esther was also a member. Tod unbuckled a belt from one of the negros and trussed up Esther in the even she might escape. “What are you doing goy! I know people at the highest levels! You can’t get away with” – but her vituperation was cut short when Tod ripped the bandana off a negro and thrust it into her mouth leaving nothing but the red fist projecting outward. “Nothing worse than a noisy kike! They’ve been squawking in the Jews’ papers and the Talmud-vision for far too long. At least this one’s had her say.”
The trio hurriedly loaded the trunk and rear of the impala with the negros on bottom and the Jews on top so that they were crushed against the ceiling. Lucky for them the windows were tinted and thus no one would see the pile of bodies in the back. The vehicle rode high but with the souped up shocks it appeared to be a typical gangster ride the Coonskins favoured thereby serving as a perfect disguise in travelling to the site of the ritual burning where the trio would turn the tables on the Jews in a gesture of poetic justice and vacate the premises in the limousine which Seig and Kristina would drive. Tod rode in the ’64 bumping the tunes the negros had ‘enjoyed’ for lack of a better term, the lyrics, hardly intelligible broke out in mumbles and slurs: “Hoe ass bitch, gonna kill me a white muthafucka” – Tod endured the music to maintain his cover while inserting the earplugs he kept handy to drown out the city noise. “Payback’s a bitch!” the music spat and Tod had to second that thought, again thinking that poetic justice had descended upon the negros’ head like a ton of bricks and that a few more angry and hateful negros would be prevented from continuing their cold race war with the whites reflected in the horrific trail of crimes they committed from rape to theft to murder of the most torturous and inhuman kind. ‘Inhuman,’ yes, Tod thought – that was the word. Clearly neither they nor their Jewish masters were human. Tod wheeled the vehicle into the abandoned construction site whose buildings and cranes towered against the setting sun as the arms of Moloch, the Jew’s god of sacrifice. He parked the vehicle between these two spires – a set of metal girders projecting into space ready to transmit the energies of the soon-to-be holocausted towards wherever ‘Remphan’ might be in the firmament above. The trunk had room enough for spare gas canisters which Tod proceeded to douse the leather interior with making sure to splash the kike bitch in the face so that her beady black eyes would cease to glare at him. She wriggled on top of the bulk of negro flesh beneath still pinned between it and the roof of the vehicle. Tod dug around in the waistcoat of the chauffeur for a cigarette lighter but found none. He decided the only way to ignite it would be to blow the gas tank with one of the negros pistols. Rummaging amidst the bloated girth of the Coonskins he came up with a semi-auto .45 and slammed the door shut locking it from within. He observed the limousine at a distance approaching and gestured for it to stop. He then ran towards it halfway and turning still within rage took aim and fired a round into the gas tank. It had an immediate effect creating a whoomp sound and blowing the vehicle off the ground, the gas catching fire and increasing the flames which engulfed the vehicle. “Come on let’s go!” Seig cried from the window as Tod turned and ran to the limousine. The flames licked the vehicle which had been thrown from its original position and soared upwards arms reaching towards Remphan, bestowing upon it the energies of sacrifice. The limousine drove off into the sunset.
Over the course of the next few weeks Kristina, ‘Kris’ to the brothers, would take trips into town from Adams’ manor to visit her friends and to help the inner city white youth as she had become aware of the false claims of the Jews in their media mind control apparatus and its portrayal of non-whites as ‘innocent victims’ and how this representation of fact had no correspondence with reality but was merely an illusion designed to undermine and demoralize the white population so that the Jews could take over their society, mix them with non-whites, and subject them to genocide. Kris’ father Colonel Adams, upon hearing of her becoming aware of the Jewish problem had expressed concern over her being too vocal about these issues knowing the danger of the Jewish Cabal and their influence. Kris tried to reassure her father stating that she knew how to maintain the necessary façade of political correctness and would be cautious in dealings with those who were potentially upset by politically controversial topics. At Ivan’s grocery she and the boys were playing a chess variant called ‘H8’ (pronounced ‘hate’) a microcosm of the macrocosm of the global spiritual war which had been going on since the beginning of time and in which they had become immersed through their initiatic rite of ritual murder of some of their enemies, representatives of the Coonskins and the Jews Esther and her chauffeur, the latter of whom
were (at least in the case of Esther) clearly signified figures in the Cabal’s reckoning given that only initiated members of the Cabal were tattooed with the yellow star of Remphan, The One, their god of dark forces. This game was a 3-dimensional chess game with a matrix of three octagonal boards representing the material plane and higher dimensions within leading to a pinnacle region wherein the ultimate power – for both dark and light side – was attained transforming one into a god, an apotheosis of man, man become superman. The brothers became more expert at the game with their new combatant Kris who brought a more subtle and intuitive form of gameplay given her female consciousness which itself grew through conflict with the polar opposites of the boys, both of whom had very idiosyncratic qualities. This game Ivan told the trio when they had time to discuss the spiritual situation of the world during lulls in business activity, had developed in the mists of time back in the old country, derived from long dead civilizations of the white race which had fallen through non-white invasion and in some cases through employing the non-whites to do their slave labour which led to their either being led by the Jews in slave rebellions or through the whites granting them citizenship and leading to inter-breeding and the dousing of the divine spark of the white race through genetic devolution. In spite of the collapse of these ancient multi-millennial old civilizations whose history had been deliberately obscured by the Jewish tyranny and its media and state indoctrination monopoly, the game ‘H8’ continued to serve the secret societies of the white race of which Ivan was a member as a mental training exercise, with its complex logic and infinitude of permutations and combinations. To concentrate and focus one’s mind on the game was to undergo an alchemical transmutation of consciousness the end result being a function of the gameplay and the individual qualities of the players which manifested in that gameplay and its effect on consciousness.
Around this game and the martial arts training the two would undergo they developed greater spiritual powers than previously taking further steps towards godhood. Ivan would intermittently come out and deliver the lectures to them about the history of his people, a sub- group of the Aryan race and touch upon the Jewish influence historically and all of the notions they had invaded and destroyed. Throughout his lectures he would reference their psychology, tactics, and other forms of cunning which they would employ as a means of gradually and imperceptibly taking over the societies of others and subverting them from within. He had a large library of rare and difficult to find books that discussed ‘how to recognize and identify the Jew’ (one of their titles) and various strategy in overcoming them, matching in intensity only for the good, the fanatical loyalty the Jews had to their self-interest which was bound up with their diabolical kind by all white racial loyalists who had the ethical obligation to serve the greater cause of their own kind not merely for their own self-interest which was the dark side.
One day Ivan appeared in the alleyway from the shop and took them aside. “I feel that you are now ready brothers for the next stage of empowerment. Kristina, you must forgive me for exempting you from this honour as it passes only by way of the masculine line. In the Arya which as you know is the name of our society the females play a different role from the men. They serve as medians, channels for the divine force and as a connection to the divine spirit world. The men are the agents, the women the patients although both play both parts at times. The men are involved merely actively in the spiritual combat with greater force whereas women are in a way the more knowing, more understanding in their intuitive nature. Hence at this stage of initiation we require you, a young woman, to serve as a donor of magnetism to these two pendants – upon saying ‘pendants’ he raised up two metallic circular objects intricately engraved with runes and symbols all of which were unintelligible to the trio. “These two pendants are sources of great occult power which when activated and endowed with the appropriate type of magnetic life force, from a young woman preferably endowed with blonde hair such as you Kristina. They are forged from a metal which knows no earthly origin and which is believed to have derived itself from a far off planet in another galaxy from whence the Aryan race originated.”
Ivan closed up the shop indicating to them to follow him to the rooftop. As it was evening they witnessed the setting sun bordered by the skyscraper skyline. The rays of sun shone upon them and the boys knelt as Ivan indicated on two reed mats gazing into the rays of the sun. Ivan instructed Kris to take the pendants and clasp the metal surface of the disk between her fingers still exposing them to the light of the sun. He told her to look into the sun while holding them above her head with arms forming a ‘V’ shape, that of the life rune. Ivan began to intone in a strange, guttural language unknown to the trio who remained in their positions at Ivan’s behest. Ivan then arose and instructed Kristina to place the pendants around the necks of the brothers who kneeled bare-chested in the sun, still gazing into its rays. They felt a strange vibration or perhaps radiation would be a better term emanating from the pendant invigorating them with some subtle power. Ivan told them to stand which they did still looking at the sun in semi- hypnotic fashion. He then spoke: “At this point in history we are nearing the final confrontation with the enemy, called Ragnarok. The enemy, the Jews, the dark forces they propitiate and whose powers they harness, the powers of their god Remphan, are now making feverish preparations to finally annihilate the white race from this earth so they may become supreme ruler of the world and bring into it dark spiritual forces – for they, the Jews, are merely earthly emissaries of their god preparing the earth for these same Lucifer spirits. We must annihilate them both for our own and for the survival of all life on earth which would otherwise merely be food for their god who like them is a vampire. Accordingly I have performed this ritual as a means of preparing you for Ragnarok. I have conferred upon you great powers through the possession of this pendant which should be worn at all times and will amplify your spiritual powers of foresight, clairvoyance, enhance concentration and enable the bringing to bear of great force in battle with the enemy. I also will present to you these weapons” – so saying he took out of a leather case he had positioned on the rooftop prior to bringing them there and opened it. He produced a set of gloves with hard metallic knuckles, presumably of the same alloy as the pendants, and the remainder of a strange flexible material which appeared like a breathable latex or skin. He motioned to Seig: “Since you are the better boxes these will be as suitable addition to your fighting skills. Put them on.” So saying he held them out to Seig, who put them on his hands. “They don’t feel like they’re…there,” Seig stated in astonishment. Ivan pointed to a brick chimney nearby. “Strike that,” he stated. Seig approached and threw a right jab at the chimney which exploded in fragments upon the gloves’ contact. Seig stared open- mouthed at the force impact. “Handy in a trice,” he quipped. Ivan then reached into the leather case and brought out an intricately carved small gleaning blade and small magnetic circle which, when twisted (it was in fact two circles placed on top of one another as a stack of coins) would come apart from the knife which presumably had a magnet of a similar nature within it. Ivan twisted the ‘coins’ again and the knife hopped onto the coin, the blade disappeared instantly within it housing handle. He approached Tod and handed him the device.
“You may place the magnet on your pendant,” he said. Tod did so and the magnet seemed to weld itself to the metal inextricable therefrom. “It will never come off,” Ivan state matter-of- factly. “Turn around and come to the other side of the chimneys.” The trio did so and observed a grouping of thick iron rebar projecting from a section of broken bricks on the tenement building. “Twist the magnet,” Ivan stated which instruction was followed by Tod. The knife blade projected with lightning speed from the handle. “Throw it at the rebar – hard!” Ivan shouted. Tod with practiced knife throwing skill did so and the rebar was shorn from the brick, the knife lodged handle deep into the brick wall. Tod gazed open-mouthed just as Sieg had done. “Now twist the magnetic to return the knife,” Ivan commanded. Tod did so and the knife popped out of the hole it had bored into the brick returning to the magnet with minimal impact though it flashed across the space between the brick and Tod. “Now attempt to remove the knife,” Ivan stated. Tod did so with great ease and juggled the knife in his hand. Ivan walked up to the iron rebar lifting it towards their faces. It was shorn as with a laser. “Extend the blade by twisting the magnets,” Ivan instructed. The knife in Tod’s hand was pristine with no scratch upon it. The trio gazed in amazement. “There is one more thing,” Ivan stated reaching into his grocer’s apron, “this philtre is a life-giving draught which, though not conferring immortality, has the power to heal all maladies of poison and virus and to accelerate the healing process within one’s own body. I give this to you Kristina for the woman has always been a healer and to heal herself is a means of healing others. Take a draught and save the rest for emergencies – for yourself or others. Only a sip now!” Kristina did so and placed the remainder in her purse. The trio now equipped to give battle the enemy decided to go with Kristina to Adams’ manor to meet their father. Ivan still accompanying them to the shop inquired as to who her father was as he was yet not acquainted with Kristina’s background. Kristina informed him that he was Colonel Adams and that he was a philanthropist and inventor who had served in the military. At this piece of news Ivan’s curiosity was further piqued leading him to inquire whether the colonel had a birthmark on his arm in the shape of a lightning bolt. Astonished Kristina confirmed his suspicion stating that it was a green mark, a sort of zigzag pattern, “yes – just like a lightning bolt.” Ivan stopped the trio in their path down towards the store. “Know this,” he stated with gravity, “that Kristina is of the bloodline of the Arya and that is prophesied in the ancient texts that this bloodline will deal the decisive blow against the legions of Remphan. She must be guarded – you boys must make this your task – to guard her from the Cabal and to give battle with the Cabal and its non-white legions executing and thereby disbanding the Cabal brick by brick – as with your fists Seig, you must crumble to dust this monster, this dark force! I have given you the weapons which have been transmitted throughout time and which are beyond time in their powers as I now feel it needless for you to train any further. Now you must put your training into practice through the helter-skelter of battle – that is the only training you need.” The two boys swore an fealty oath to Kristina to guard her as the bearer of the superman to come against the dark forces of the cabal. Later they accompanied Kristina back to the manor in the limousine they had appropriated from Esther and ultimately the Cabal though having taken it to a chop shop to modify its external appearance so as to be largely undetectable to any members of the Cabal. As added precaution they parked the vehicle several blocks away and made sure that they took circuitous routes so as to avoid detection by the Cabal’s agents. Once arrived at Adams manor they were introduced to the colonel, a middle-aged gentleman of immense height with iron grey hair and a monocle leaning on a brass-handled cane of black walnut wood. The elderly (or nearly so) gentleman had an eight-pointed star affixed to his lapel and a star of Malta above glinting in the warm sunlight as he stood on the marble steps to greet the brothers as he had had foreknowledge of their arrival apparently, they knew not how. The two brothers followed Kristina up the steps to the Colonel who shook both of their hands with a vigorous handshake seemingly radiating an unusual and strange energy, projecting a magnetic influence into their own hands leaving them feeling more invigorated as if he, an aging cripple, had imparted some of his superabundant life force to their already robust constitution.
“You are the two…brothers I mean,” the colonel said with a smile as if wanting to reveal a secret but recovering at the last moment as if the time for the impartation of such knowledge were not yet mature. They replied that they were the brothers who had saved Kristina as she had already informed the colonel of this fact and that they would do their best to protect Kristina from any future repetitions of entanglement with the Cabal. They approached the veranda overlooking the lush gardens of the Adams’ estates. The colonel began to inform them of how Kristina had come to the realization – he could not have convinced her otherwise – that charity should exist only towards one’s own kind and that to be charitable with others, in her case the non-whites she had attempted to help in the soup kitchen before she was set up by the Cabal and ambushed by the non-whites and through that experience became aware of the evils of out-group altruism, which was merely the act of feeding and building up an enemy who would then turn around and destroy one and one’s own kind. ‘The 88 precepts’ of David Lane, I ensured became available to Kristina to, as it were, remove the scales from her eyes, and then the rose-coloured glasses. Now she sees with lucid perception that all types of creatures in the world serve their own and that this is the law of nature, of the cosmos. The colonel informed the boys that he had many irons in the fire of charity, though himself keeping a low profile unlike the self-promoting Jews who trumpeted their ostentatious charities seeing their name in lights while skimming the majority of donations off the top to fatten their own pockets. Such hypocrisy was foreign to the colonel who gave without expectation of reward and clandestinely so as to avoid the public eye. Simply to see the good prevail was enough. “The good being,” he said, “the survival of the white race,” and accordingly he bestowed his largesse only upon sympathetic affiliated organizations who helped exclusively white children. “What about the influx of non-whites Colonel – is there nothing that can stop it?” The colonel replied that he was working with affiliates but that the power of the Cabal was still too strong and had to be weakened before any legislative enacting could be brought into play – else the Cabal and its minions, the other non-white gangs would simply assassinate whomever attempted to introduce any changes in public policy. He himself was targeted for assassination. Tod asked why and the colonel looked inquiringly at Kristina who nodded her head and stated, “It’s okay father, they are already knowledgeable about the situation. They have even been initiated by Ivan.” The colonel looked pleasantly surprised though concealed his surprise as best he could. “So you know Ivan?” he asked which Tod answered in the affirmative: “He is our foster father and told us that you were yourself an initiate.” In so saying the colonel pulled up his brass-buttoned sleeve to reveal the green lightning bolt tattooed on his forearm. “I am indeed,” he stated, “and have known Ivan for many years. He has told me about you. I may as well reveal what so far I have attempted to conceal – that we believe you and Seig are those destined to bring about the destruction of the Cabal, that one of you as yet I know not which…” at this he looked indirectly at Seig “- are destined also to marry my daughter Kristina and to continue the bloodline.” The two brothers looked at him then at Kristina in slight embarrassment knowing not what to say.
“I myself, as I was beginning to say, have been the subject of assassination attempts and narrowly escaped. I was much more active in fighting the Cabal until I was run over by a Cabal assassin which crippled my right leg. Prior to that I had been an expert – more so even than Ivan, I was at a higher grade than himself in the Arya of which you two are now members – in the martial art of the order which I employed against the Cabal on numerous occasions. Now however I am looking for a replacement and two are better than one.” He looked at them ponderously and with a look of expectation and hope. “I have released a work of the Cabal’s which was discovered on one of their members’ bodies who had failed to breach the defenses of one of my factories, a manufacturer of ozone generators – a work called “A Plan for Global Dominion” which outlined the Cabal’s general plan for the subversion of white society through infiltration and using the media to manipulate the minds of the population to accept subversive activity such as the inversion of sexual roles and the influx of non-white invaders euphemistically called ‘migrants’, ‘refugees’, ‘temporary foreign workers’, or whatever excuse can be made to bring as many in to serve as voting blocs through the democratic system to vote white people out of power and ultimately out of existence, to breed them out or even outright murder them if need be. This book I have been publishing using my own clandestine publishing house for all of one year and already I have had multiple assassination attempts on my life.” So saying he produced from his waistcoat a copy of the work, a thin and easily accessible volume with a yellow star of Remphan around which a serpent was coiled on the verge of biting its own tail. He placed it on the table and dug again into his waistcoat, this time producing what looked to be a letter on parchment with a wax seal. He turned the latter to the boys who witnessed that the letter bore the seal of Ivan, the same he had used for all his business correspondence only in this case it contained also another indentation – a specialized logo the same as their pendants. They looked inquisitively at the colonel who began to read: “Please see to it that the boys are welcome in your manor. I know they are the ones spoken of in prophecy. They may stay there with you indefinitely as I can no longer train them beyond their current level. If they will I would have them pay a visit sometime. – Ivan.” The colonel stood up and said: “The time for Ragnarok has become just as in the old texts – all circumstances are now ripe for the final battle – the final solution to the Jews and their god Remphan.”
The time at the manor with the colonel, though brief, was extremely productive. At the training centre the boys honed their skills with the colonel’s men, ex-servicemen who had attained special forces status and were proficient with firearms and all weapons used by the lower tier minions of the Cabal, the gangs whom the boys had previously had encounters with such as the Coonskins – the negro gang – and the Scorpion gang, a coterie of Arab jihadists who operated sex slavery rings and assisted the Jewish leadership in the subversion and demoralization of white society selling the exotic drugs imported from clandestine labs in Israel and China. These were only the lower tier of the Cabal though their leadership had status within the Jewish hierarchy and were themselves crypto-Jews of a more Sephardi background adhering to a mystic occult tradition called ‘the pure’ – and who lived an aescetic life of denial of passion and worldly desire as a means of attempting to ascend to the 7th heaven and to have a harem of 666,000 virgins from which to manifest their suppressed sexual instincts which were considered merely of ‘fleshly concern’ of the ‘tomb of the spirit’, the body. These ex-servicemen served the colonel as a security task force which monitored the compound 24 hours a day and which accompanied the colonel on his infrequent business trips in an armoured vehicle which was thoroughly inspected for explosives prior to driving. The boys cultivated a rapport with the team and were taught in their brief stay many technical aspects of booby traps, bomb making, and other useful guerrilla combat information that would prove useful for their operators in their inevitable clash with the Cabal.
In consultations with the colonel, the brothers decided that a full frontal assault on the Long Island compound of Don Palumbo was unfeasible given their lack of battle experience beyond skirmishes with the lower level Coonskin dealers who would often be sent around Ivan’s to solicit the old man for funds, ‘dues’ to the Cabal who looked upon such ilk as Ivan as unworthy of their attention and thus under their radar save as an entry in their account ledger. Apparently they had no knowledge that he was an initiated member of the Arya and credible opposition to their operations which he sought to undermine to the greatest extent while still evading detection. The plan the Colonel, Seig, and Tod devised was to create instability and breakdown within the cult through severing the chain of command between lower and higher tiers by striking against accessible targets who had significant enough power to cause the Cabal irritation at a low level. Thus sabotage and the war of the flea were the strategy and through interrogation of prisoners to gain greater insight into the workings of the Cabal so as to more efficiently throw monkey wrenches into its gears. This would be facilitated through table turning on the Jews’ dividing and conquering’ that which they themselves had built up through those same tactics. Taking out Remus Jackson and portraying the hit as the act of the Scorpion gang was the first mission.
Scene: Long Island, NY – Don Palumbo’s compound
The secret underground passage opened up onto a large chamber replete with alcoves with sputtering candles held in iron braziers. The cold cement walls made the ambience like that of a dungeon – or a tomb. Ali Mahfouz stood with Don Palumbo as Stern approached escorting a negro Coonskin member who looked frightened out of his wits – eyes bulging and sweat beading on his forehead, his black bandana soaked through. The Don turned towards Stern with a querulous look on his face, eyebrows arched in sardonic confusion. “What do you bring me Stern? I though zoo animals were locked up at night?” At which Ali sneered with a reptilian countenance offering his opinion in facetious disdain: “They take their stink with them too.” “Enough!” the Don growled. “Stern, bring him close,” at which request Stern gave the Coonskin a shove towards the Don who was positioned ear the center of the room outside of a reverse pentagram scored into the cement in a triangular trough-like indentation with the central square opening up into it and the trough extending into a deeper trench outside of the pentagram. “You were given a task – weren’t you boy?” The Don emphasized the last word knowing it triggered the negros given his Cabalistic mind control in the pop culture. “Ye..ye..yes Don Palumbo.” “What was that task?” the Don asked rhetorically. “I was sposed to acks the rep from dem Scorpion gang to meet up with the rep of da snake gang fo’ de transaction.” The Don looked puzzled: “Did you?” Desperation showed on the face of the Coonskin who stuttered, “No..no..no
Don Palumbo.” “Why?” the Don asked in a whisper. ‘F-f-forgot Don Palumbo…you see…I…it’s like this…see” – “Stop” Don Palumbo said flatly. “You were given a task and failed to make good. But I will excuse you. Now – go and apologize to Mr. Mahfouz here the representative of the Scorpion gang – maybe he will forgive you. Well, Mr. Mahfouz – why not shake and make up with this – beast,” Don Palumbo said with evident sarcasm. Mahfouz stretched out his hand and the Coonskin mirrored his gesture, relief coming over his countenance in the belief he had escaped punishment. Mahfouz, a burly man with cold, burning black eyes grabbed the hand of the Coonskin and dropped to a knee pulling the negro forward. Mahfouz rolled around and grabbed the negro around the neck shouting hysterically: “That missed meeting cost me 20 keys of China White!” So saying he pulled the negro’s head back and rabbit punched him in the occiput and then in the back of the neck which shocked the negro who fell forward in a daze of disequilibrium. The Don and Stern were upon the group pinning the arms of the negro to the ground in the pentagram. The Don intoned “Ra-ba-ka-la-grav-mem-shin-on!” reverberating the syllables in repeating cadence. The negro tried to struggle but his limbs were pinned as with manacles of adamant. Mahfouz slid a hooked dagger from his silken suit and waited for an opening while the Don continued his cadence which rang out in the chamber. “The Scorpion’s sting is the best vengeance!” Mahfouz hissed as he plunged the dagger into the heat of the negro eliciting a spurt of blood spattering his coat. Stern held down the legs preventing them from doing the rigor mortis shuffle while Mahfouz slammed his sanguine blade into the throat ripping it from ear to ear sending a torrent of blood cascading into the pentagram while the ominous presence of a lower astral entity eagerly fell upon the blood welling from the neck of the negro the remainder draining into the pool. The trembling of the sacrificed negro ceased and Stern rushed to produce three golden goblets from which the sinister trio drank after dipping them into the pool. “Every dog has his day,” the Don stated grimly.
Scene: Ivan’s Grocery, New York City
Seig and Tod traveled in their modified limousine with Kristina to pay Ivan a visit prior to their embarkation on the mission decided upon with the colonel. They parked the limousine in its usual place several blocks away and walked the remainder of the distance towards the store.
Rounding the final corner before the store came into view they heard the sound of smashing windows and the thud of furniture falling on the ground. Shouts of inarticulate Ebonics were broadcast from the smashed open window as the trio ran towards the store rushing into the fray. They witnessed the blacks, members of the Coonskin gang by their characteristic berets – black with a red fist emblazoned upon it – throwing the groceries around the store shouting: “Give us your muhfukn money ol’ bitch!” As Ivan wrestled with one of them who was attempting to slam his head into the cash register, an old vintage heavy metal special. Sieg shouted – “Hey niggers! Why don’t you take on a challenge instead of harassing an old man” At which a few of the gangsters turned towards him some throwing groceries at him. Perceiving that these bad apples were irredeemably degenerate he slipped on his fist gloves and gave a right cross to one, metal knuckles crashing against the black bandana-covered head and appearing to take away the bandana like a piece of laundry on a clothesline, a spray of blood, brains, and bone fragments gushing in a stream with his fist like a bullet crashing through a wine bottle. “Keep back Kris!” Tod said as he twisted the coin on his pendant thereby releasing the knife and extending its blade. As he did so a Coonskin pulled a heavy bowie knife from a leather sheath depending from his belt and began tossing the knife back and forth in mockery of Tod with his apparently pusillanimous blade that nevertheless emitted an eerie light. The negro kept up his taunting until suddenly Tod let fly the blade in a backhand toss, a gleaming missile imperceptible to the naked eye which plunged into the mouth of the negro making him appear as if he had swallowed the knife, it exiting clearly the back of his skull and returning with equal speed as Tod again turned the magnet. The negro looked agape at Tod as if uncertain that anything had happened until suddenly blood gushed forth from his mouth and he sank with a thud to his knees. Tod gave a roundhouse kick to the side of his head cracking the rest of his skull in an explosion of bone. Kristina hung back pressed against the pinball machine Ivan had in the corner for the local kids to play with and to keep them out of trouble.
Seig was pummelling the Coonskins left and right exploding heads and caving in chests with his hammer blows while Tod slashed with his knife filleting the negros like a butcher on amphetamines – black sheep to the slaughter. The fray continued with shouts and crashes the brothers unable to tell which direction they were in knowing only that any black face was an enemy and thus must be struck out at without restraint. Battle lust darkened their vision to blood red whilst adrenaline pumped out inflaming their ardour. All of a sudden it grew quiet and the last negro thumped to the ground dead. The brothers looked at one another and scanned the room paranoically in 360 degrees taking in a complete panoramic perspective. – All
clear. But wait – where had Kristina gone! – And Ivan. They gazed down at the body of Ivan with his white balding head and saw that he still lived. He muttered, “Kristina – get her…” and the boys on instinct rushed to rescue her from the negro hordes who had apparently escaped. They observed another souped up ’64 swinging around the corner out of reach and returned to the store to check Ivan. He was labouring for health and frantically trying to tell them something. A black blade projected from his side, a stream of blood pouring around it and soaking his shirt. “Do you know their…headquarters…” he gasped. Tod answered in the affirmative. “It is too late for me…boys. Use the entrance…on the roof to get…without…seen…” at which he died in the arms of Seig. The two boys gathered up Ivan and took the elevator to the roof. There they burnt Ivan’s body in a shed that was used by the janitor to force Ivan’s soul to ascend. It was again sunset and a bloody sunset it was. Kristina was now their objective. They had to find her tonight before the animals who were the Coonskin gang had their way with her defiling her pure body with their vile seed and ruining the bloodline of that branch of Arya. The two brothers went downstairs and hurriedly washed the blood from their bodies in the event the police or curious passers-by would investigate the damaged shop. They clothed themselves in black and took additional weapons Ivan had stockpiled on site. A bandolier with hand-grenades for each and some C-4 satchel charges as well as MAC-11 submachine guns and extra ammunition. their raid on the Coonskin compound would be the first strike against the Cabal. They were ready.
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