The Prince of Darkness Meets His Nemesis: Laws of Magnetism allowed beings from the Phantasmal Hierarchies to attach themselves to the earthlings they resonated with. The frequencies of a living being attracted like beings throughout all the nested layers of dimensional realities. / NASA Worldview

My photo of the fried radiation sky over the Olympic Peninsula, Washington State taken from my home. Contrast enhanced to reveal the ‘metalized’ cloud structure.

Bhagavad Gita XVI.19
Those cruel haters, the worst of men, I constantly hurl
Into the wombs of demons in the cycles of rebirth

Having entered the wombs of demons,
Those who are deluded, not attaining Me,
In birth after birth, Arjuna,
From there go to a condition lower than that.

Galapagos (above) / Oct.27, 2016

VSF: This second allegory was written around 2001, a few years after I wrote ‘The Prince of Darkness Meets His World Elite.’  Inspired by my vision of the warrior lady with the golden triangle embedded into her forehead, today I would venture to say that she is perhaps a Draco Reptilian Warrior Queen from another dimensional realm. The Phantasmal Hierarchies, the astral planes are indeed endless layers of frequency waveforms, both ascending in consciousness and descending into the bottomless demonic.

Our tyrannical Prince of Darkness has always thought himself to be in complete control. He is about to learn that once he gave himself over to hatred, greed, and other demonic states of consciousness — he in fact lost all control of himself and plunged into an unending prison of his own making.

God is ubiquitous. God permeates and pervades All. There is no thing that is not God. Every being is a portion of God. God allows each of us to move into our choices, our adventures in consciousness, in Time & Space. When our chosen states of consciousness become demonic, we sink down ever lower so that we may eventually realize the pain of evil — which is against the Life Force, the reverse of live.

The ever increasing pain of demonic frequencies may instigate Remembrance of who we are. Pain is like an alarm clock. However, our arrogant storybook service-to-self Prince is still very far away from waking up. Just as the humans who are ‘carriers’ of the demonic frequencies are far away from their innate goodness and as minions of the Draco Reptilians and the Zeta Greys are serving to bring about the closing years of this current Kali Yuga and inevitable planetary reset.

The Prince of Darkness Meets His Nemesis

In this particular polarity universe there are layers and layers of hierarchies in the Invisible Realms. Submerged as waveforms in an Ocean of Consciousness, all are connected in the holographic web of this Totality.
Even the Prince of Darkness is only consciousness in one layer, one level of a specific frequency within a vast spectrum that adds to and upholds the temporal illusory holographic matrix of our polarity universe. In his egoistic self-absorption, he has not noticed another who silently watches and influences him – for reasons and purposes known only to her.

Layers in the Phantasmal Hierarchies

Somewhere in space high above the Earth, the Prince of Darkness was enjoying a very dry martini and having a manicure. Two delicate, beautiful young girls of oriental descent were buffing his quite long nails. One of the girls found an errant cuticle and timidly began to trim it, when accidentally she cut too deeply.

“Ouch!” the pitiless Prince exclaimed. A tiny amount of blood oozed from his cuticle and he licked it up quickly, finding it delicious. “You half-witted idiot! Are you trying to kill me? Watch that!”

He was in a very irritable mood. He looked at the girls at his feet with disinterest and remembered a time when he would have enjoyed a fling with all of them, using them for his own pleasure. But these days sex and women in general totally bored him.

The Deal

He sipped his gin and sneered. He could not understand how the ‘deal’ had gotten so totally out of his control. The original terms he had made with the earthling governments were simple: ET technology for human DNA. 

The ambitious impatient scientists and greedy business tycoons never realized that the dazzling technology they received was in effect barbaric, inefficient, and crippling to the planet Earth’s environment.
But then as if from nowhere, what seemed like hoards of rogue ET races also eager to procure human DNA managed to negotiate trade agreements with other governments, anti-governments, and international criminal organizations.

These numerous clandestine agreements were made behind his back, without so much as even informing him – much less asking for his royal permission, as would have been proper. These ET aliens were themselves nothing more than criminals who had begun to successfully intercept his deliveries and upset his trade agreements.

Chaos ruled. The Prince of Darkness himself had lost control over the entire operation. How was he to know that the dang human genome would be so popular, so valuable, so in demand. It was completely beyond him.

Feelings, argh!

Why anyone in the universe would want to experience a wide spectrum of emotions was a mystery to the heartless Prince. He detested feeling anything and lately he been having really revolting dreams about a strange woman. He knew he had a soul of sorts, but he never wasted his time thinking about such things.

As his mind drifted back to his gin, suddenly out of thin air there appeared before him six uninvited guests in the room. Shocked by the intrusion, he dropped his martini glass on the floor and it shattered into fragments of crystal shards.

“Who in Hades are you?” he said.

Those were to be the last words to issue from the Prince’s rather reptilian lips, at least for a while. He found himself completely paralyzed – frozen and unable to move any part of his hard perfectly formed body. He struggled against the ice hex, but to no avail.

“Hello,” a woman’s sickly sweet, shrill voice slowly echoed inside his brain.

The lady was dressed in a suit of gold armor and she looked splendid, if somewhat sinister. She seemed to be the leader of the five male warriors who accompanied her and showed her total deference. Not that she needed any protection. She was certainly in control of the situation and the now frozen Prince.

Her statuesque perfect body was adorned with semi-solid jewels that were not jewels at all, but rather some sort of plasma technology, which apparently she controlled with her thoughts. Her arms and legs were long and muscular, but in the most elegant feminine way. She had no hair, but rather wore a golden-jeweled triangular plate upon her forehead that was embedded into her skull. She was entirely self-confident.

The Prince of all Darkness – so he thought – felt himself boil with anger.  He wanted to rip her throat out. She laughed at him.

“Well, well, now that is a nasty thought, my prince,” she smiled menacingly. “And from you – you who have performed for us so nicely all these many years.”

“You shrew, you can read my thoughts.”

“Read your thoughts?” she replied still smiling as if the moment was of little importance. “From where do you think your thoughts, as you so freely term them, have originated all these centuries?”  

“From my brilliant brain, where else!” said the infuriated Prince.

“Oh! That’s a good one!” And she began to laugh in earnest, her five warriors joining in. Their laughter entered into his body, his nervous system, and his psyche in some unspeakably insidious manner, cutting like a knife. He felt totally degraded.

“Who are you?” he demanded!

“Hmm. Who…..  are….. you…..?” she sang complacently. “The Prince of Darkness wants to know who we are. Perhaps, oh great tyrant, terror of the universe, you should ask yourself – who you are, or rather who you have ever been.”

He hated riddles, unless of course he had made them up. But he was still paralyzed and had no choice other than to listen to this termagant.

“Just tell me what you want!” he said testily.

“Ah, my prince, I have always had exactly what I wanted from you. You have always been, shall we say, my perfect pawn,” she was smiling again.

“Your pawn?” he repeated incredulously.

“Mmmm-hmm…” she replied. “And you are quite good at it actually – so completely obedient to my will.”

“How can that be? I am the Prince, the Lord of the Darkside, ruler and tyrant over all my dominion,” he asserted.

“Fool, you have been programmed from the beginning of your hatred.  Once you allowed the frequencies of fear, hate, and envy to take over your consciousness – you became my slave, a blank page for me to write my programs of tyranny upon.

“Your hatred of goodness and freedom made you an ideal dupe. Do you really imagine that you could have thought of such ingenious methods to enslave an entire planet on your own?” Her laughter derided him.

“In point of fact, you are by our standards rather ordinary – even stupid,” she added cheerfully, as if she needed to gouge him with the point.

Though still paralyzed from head to toe, he felt as though he might explode. The word dupe drove him mad. He was deflated, demoralized, and insulted by her utter scorn for — for, well, his genius, his strategies, and obviously his unparalleled physical beauty. He wondered vaguely if she had read his poetry. He felt an overwhelming urge to kill her.

“That will never happen,” she said. “You are as powerless against me now as you have ever been.”  

“Why have you come? Why are you telling me this now?” he asked.

The Laws of Magnetism

“Because the end of this little game is near, and it amuses me,” she said with no feeling, “to see you like this – to make you understand that you are nothing.”  

With that, she and her guards vanished into the air from which they had come. As he regained control of himself, miraculously the broken martini glass reformed itself in his hand as if to further insult him with her powers. Dazed and exhausted, he fell in a heap on the floor.

He knew that the Laws of Magnetism allowed beings from the Phantasmal Hierarchies to attach themselves to the earthlings they resonated with. The frequencies of a living being attracted like beings throughout all the nested layers of dimensional realities.

But it had never occurred to him that he himself was a carrier.

V. Susan Ferguson


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