Halloween is without a doubt my favorite holiday. The repulsive amount of candy, the ghoulish decorations everyone has strung around their house, it’s great to see the commitment to the celebration. The costumes, however, hands down has to be my favorite part. Yea, you have your typical ghosts, witches, Jason and Freddy masks, and monsters, but the fact that adults, teenagers, and especially children alike each come together one night to transform, really demonstrates their potential into crossing over. These kids spend a lot of time and thought in how they plan on impressing our dear Satan. My friend Todd calls them “caricatures”; says Halloween and the costumes these days are merely a growing sign of paganism and no longer dedicates itself to the antichrist like it used to. Yea, Whatever dude.

I first converted 5 or 6 years ago, when my lab partner in biology, Deyet, first transferred to our school. For being such a standup guy, Deyet struggled initially to make any friends at our school. That was a surprise to me since he was so personable, had a great sense of humor, and was pretty sociable. But he always got these weird looks from people. There was always three to four seats always empty around him during lecture and it always seemed other students would whisper and talk whenever they saw him, but went quiet whenever he was within listenable radius of their conversations.

After sparking up light conversation the first time we met, he invited me back to his apartment to work on our lab report together.

It was there he taught me everything I needed to know about the antichrist and Satanism as a religion. Dedicating your life to the evil, Deyet believed, was necessary for life to go on the way it does; Ying and yang of sorts. Satanism recognizes other religions, and respects their presence, although it is obviously against our ideologies. We believe life needs both good AND evil, something many Christians seem to have not grasped yet. So injecting as much horror, evil, and pain into the world is imperative to life going on as it always has.

Every year, on the day before Halloween, all of Satan’s children around the world perform different rituals, with the hopes of connecting with our dark lord. These rituals can be done through a process called “Harboring.” When you Harbor, you infiltrate the soul or mind of your host (can be any living being from the President of the United States to a housefly), which you are then forever connected to. Somewhere between merging your soul and psyche with your host, you open up a space between realms called, vacancies, where then the devil can come in and make his presence known. The extent of his visit varies, but his presence can arrive in many forms. These can include everything from radical increases in riches and power, visits from deceased loved ones, random suicidal/homicidal tendencies, or even Satan himself.

The cool thing about Harboring is that it even transcends multiple dimensions and galaxies. One of the more popular rituals grants you the ability to merge multiple dimensions into one reality, where the hosts cross paths. This is one of the more simple ways to perform a Harbor, since all it requires is your host to be mentally vulnerable (i.e. during sleep or while intoxicated). However this is only noticeable through the host; everyone else will not see or experience this. Harboring essentially blurs the lines between one reality with another reality of the said host. By performing this, you are able to connect with someone in all aspects of their existence in every possible way; past, present, future, multiple dimension, you name it.

I was fully committed to the practices and my religion until I met my current girlfriend Julia. Needless to say, we come from two different backgrounds.

She came from a devout Christian family, however she was very open and respectable to other religions. I had fallen madly in love with her, constantly wondering if she would ever accept me for who I truly was. It’s one of the worst secrets I’ve ever kept from a loved one but it was important that I shared my life with her. But soon I realized that it could never be.

Because she took her religion semi-seriously, she would go to church every Sunday. I remember how I used to get these really bad headaches whenever she would read the bible within my vicinity or even mention anything having to do with church or Sundays, so after a while I’ve almost trained myself to block out any thought or memory of her even mentioning the word.

Somehow she encouraged me to go with her to church. Immediately upon entering the building, I started to tremble. My hands started to sweat and my limbs started to tense up. As we walked through the various families and groups of people, smiling, nodding, and acknowledging us, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I DEFINITELY didn’t belong here. I felt like everyone could see into my body and see that I was consumed with something vastly different from what ran through the blood of theirs.

I was eased and comforted for a bit with the hand of my significant other as we made our ways through the lobby into the space where the preacher speaks.

With a smile she looked at me, wondering if I was fine. I was better for a moment.

As this man began his sermon, I tried desperately to seem like I was paying attention when it was clear I was thinking about something else. The random shouts of “Yes” and “preach” broke into his monologue. At this moment I began to sweat, my eyes flickering from a shot to shot of different people nodding and staring sharply as this man shouted throughout the building; his voice seeming to get louder and louder in my brain.

I closed my eyes for two seconds then exhaled slowly and softly; not too hard to get the unwarranted notice of anyone around me, including Julia.

Then for a few seconds everything went quiet.

The pastor had stopped talking; catching his breath before he began again. Everyone almost at the edge of their seat, begging, pleading, craving for more. As he began to talk again, I heard nothing. Yet somehow everyone else around me could. It was as if I had literally gone deaf from the magnitude of the volume.

My mind began to thump; I could feel my brain throb like a beating heart. Standing there, in a pool of fear, trying to be subtle about the amount of perspiration that was soaking my collar, I adjusted my tie as I tried to keep calm and compose myself.

My eyes, dead locked on this individual as he continued with his preaching.

My face almost expressionless as I gazed at him like a robot. My left eye then sharply cut perpendicular to the left, as my right eyed stayed focus on this individual.

It would do this, going back and forth between straight and left, for 2 minutes straight, until an elderly woman a row in front of me to the right noticed, and looked at me with a mixture of confusion, worry, and fright. I peered at her.

Then she gave the look in her face of illness, covering her mouth as she looked at me and felt like she seen the devil himself.

Her movements’ quickly garnered attention around her as family and friends around her checked on her to see what was wrong.

She then proceeded to vomit a black ink-like liquid.

At this point, the service had thankfully stopped as ushers and members of the church ran to quickly aid of the old woman as her vomiting went from bad to worse.

Mass hysteria as screams and shrieks filled the rafters of the cathedral as the woman twitched and shook on the ground, family members crying and trying to save her.

I looked on. Relieved.

That was the first and last time I went to church. My girlfriend was obviously shaken up from that experience and went to speak with her mother about it that night.

They prayed.

I expressed my worries to Deyet and his fiancé one day, and they told me that there are just some things that some people may never accept and my practices in Satanism may be one of things that I must keep secret forever.

“Unfortunately you’re going to have to choose between her or Satan.” he told me.

This is what I was afraid of all this time, and something I came to expect. But I wasn’t ready to choose between the woman I loved and my religion.

This is where harboring comes in.

Deyet walked me through the process and all I needed to know to perform my first one.

He told me for thirty days, before I go to bed, but while my girlfriend slept, to recite these lines at by bedside in both English and latin:

*On the altar of the Devil up is down, pleasure is pain, darkness is light, slavery is freedom, and madness is sanity. The Satanic ritual cham- ber is ideal setting for the entertainment of unspoken thoughts or a veritable palace of perversity. *

On the 31st day of October, once the transformation has taken place, and our souls merge, our father will make his return. Once the soul was open, the last step was to open the mind. As I mentioned before, this can be done to a host who’s intoxicated, sleeping, or under the influence any kind of any mind-altering drug.

Because she wasn’t much of a drinker, I relied on a particular batch of black moon psilocybin mushrooms; psychedelics that only the church of Satan members knew how to obtain.

Deyet told me that she’ll begin to hallucinate, with the inability to distinguish some of her hallucinations from reality. And that she’ll go through a mind-swap of some sorts; believing she is me and that I am her.

It’s been only a few minutes but I can see the transformation starting to take place in my girlfriend. She just ran inside the bathroom screaming after being outside on the balcony of our apartment complex.

Needless to say, she isn’t handling well with the change.

But we’ll be together forever with our Lord. That’s all that matters.