Three days have passed since I hit the ‘publish’ button on the harrowing tale that was my farewell letter to my lover. I never heard from him, or our only remaining mutual friend. Frankly, that is what I wanted. I wanted silence. To never hear from him again, to never hear another chapter of his story.
But you can’t say goodbye into darkness, there is always a person on that other end of the line of the cosmic telephone who must answer, and they have a right to, as well.
There is a post office in the Greater Universe where all letters get answered. My answer came in a dream on the third night.
I am standing on the outer edge of what appears to be a giant circle. A ring, a circular space encased in some black matter. I am simultaneously within the valley that encapsulates Las Vegas, and above it. I called it an Outpost of Hell once, and this is exactly what it appears to be. It’s all dark, and I am standing on its outer rim, looking out. I am waiting for someone or something there.
Perhaps, an Angelic Intervention.
Suddenly, I sense a figure standing right next to me. I am surprised by the sense that I am not alone here. Somebody has snuck up on me whom I did not expect.
I turn around. It’s Chris.
He looks different in his archetypal form, as a penitent in a plain black robe, he is barefoot, with his long hair loose. I notice he looks solemn.
Needless to say, I am not happy to see him. ‘Why are you here?’
‘Here?’ He repeats my question to me.
I realize where are we exactly.
We are standing on the outer edge of the Ring of Wrath, a place that used to be my home. I am leaving, and he belongs here, but he can follow me until the end. For some reason, he chose to stalk me. I feel uneasy. ‘Why are you here, Chris?’
‘I came to watch.’ He hints at some impending event of great significance. It’s the event that I am waiting for at the Outer Rim of Hell. ‘He came back for you.’
I look up to the sky, and I see the dark clouds breaking. The Infernal Soulmate stands there with a flaming sword in shining armor made of electric blue light, in the likeness of an angel and a classical hero. He holds a pair of broken golden shackles that used to belong to me as if saying he had freed me.
I look back at Chris who is next to me, in a dark anguish. There is a sense of loss and surprise in his voice as if he didn’t foresee this happening. ‘My Twin Flame left me,’ he says, and upon speaking those words, Chris’s robe buzzes with a dark vibration of vengeance that invigorates hell. ‘I convinced myself that yours has left you too,’ he says, with a tortured sense of being wrong.
His whole life story flashes before my eyes.
I see Kayla, Chris’s Twin Flame, who was separated from him under unexplained circumstances, years ago, under the influence of Black Magic. They forced her, but in the end, Chris couldn’t reconcile it was always her free will, to betray him. She chose allegiance to the cult over his love. And then he tried to kill them all.
‘I seek solace in vengeance,’ he whispers as he turns towards the dark ring, explaining his whole life story. It was love, or the lack of it, that made him seek the dark consolation. Now we come to an understanding of why he is here. Why he chose to follow me here. ‘I want to know what true love looks like. I know you had it for him.’
Only truth seems to exist in this place, at the end of all things, I have only one question on my mind. ‘Did you love me, Chris?’
‘I wanted to bring you consolation,’ he says.
‘I wanted to bring you consolation, too,’ I say. ‘I didn’t mind being your second choice after her. I know what it feels like. I wanted to give you comfort as well.’
‘Isn’t that love, that we had?’ I ask myself at the edge of hell.
‘Yes, it is,’ he replies.
‘Then why couldn’t we have it?!’
‘Because I couldn’t love you back. In the place where I am,’ he gestures towards the Ring of Darkness behind us, ‘true love is not possible.’
The vibration of hell oozes high and low, like a living breathing mechanism between us.
‘You won’t meet me again in this life,’ he says. ‘Don’t look me up. Don’t talk to me, or any other men. He would feel it. It would disrupt things. Keep the oaths you made.’
Time seems to be shortening as we speak.
‘I have to go,’ Chris says as if he was bound to return to some Lost Souls business that they all must attend. His form begins to desaturate as it is being sucked back into the giant circular sink, where he is followed by similar-looking shadows. I am no longer real to them, and they cannot perceive me. ‘A storm is coming into your life,’ he speaks his last words to me, and he divines from the motion of the clouds. ‘Pretty soon.’ He turns to me one last time emitting the warm frequency of a teacher, and a brother. ‘Remember all I taught you about this place and what it means to be here. Do not come back here.
Goodbye, Nora.’
Cry, little sister! (Thou shalt not fall)
Marylin Manson
Come, come to your brother! (Thou shalt not die)
Unchain me, sister! (Thou shalt not fear)
Love is with your brother! (Thou shalt not kill)
