Francis of the Filth

  Francis of the Filth

  George Miller

  Copyright © 2017 by George Miller

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored or transmitted by any means - whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic - without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorised reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and punishable by law.

  ISBN: 978-1-387-18974-8

  This book is about a character. It has no relation to the author.

  The Revelation

  A prologue and epilogue

  The revelation of Negi, firstborn of the Negi Generations and son of the soil, given for the shedding abroad of understanding and knowledge to the hosts of every realm, age and dimension throughout the omniverses. Grace and peace.

  I, Negi, was sitting under a pomegranate tree at the third watch of the day in a desolate realm, when I was visited by a brilliant light, brighter than any sun in the sky, yet gentle to the naked eye. The light moved over me till I was enveloped by it, and as it formed its sphere around me, the glory of its presence was made known to me. I fell to the ground and cried out, “Leave me! I am nothing but loam and roots!” And a voice spoke from the light, majestic and rich, and said, “Remove the soil from around your roots, for the place you are resting is holy ground.” I did as I was told, but remained with my face to the ground. “Rise, Negi,” came the command. “Rise and be sanctified, for you are my chosen vessel to reveal to the worlds what Was, what Is and what Is To Come.” I stood and a cascade of light was poured forth upon my being till there was not a hint of defilement left upon me. And a declaration was pronounced: “Your transgressions have been atoned for.”

  In front of me appeared a large parchment scroll and a pen. “Write!” came the voice. “Write down the words that you hear and the visions that you see. Leave out not a single word nor a solitary shadow, and add to this not a single word nor a solitary shadow. You are to share this with the authorities and principalities of every realm, age and dimension. Leave nothing hidden, that all may be revealed. The visions that you will encounter are to echo across eternity.”

  At this, I fell down again before the light, unworthy of such honour, and began to shake and sob uncontrollably. A force lifted me from the ground and I sat levitated in the centre of the sphere, comforted by a sole utterance of infinite tenderness and power. It was a name, one given to me which cannot be repeated and must remain unspoken until the appointed time has come. Then the command was given to me once again: “Write”.

  Round one

  I saw before me a young child being drawn out of a very dark abyss. The child, a boy, was delivered from the darkness into the light of a world, and placed before a beast with the face of a dragon and the heart of an angel. The beast embraced the boy. Yet no sooner had he done so than he was snatched away to a dimension of terrible darkness. The new, dark dimension was ruled by two kings. One had a red sash around his waist and a large sword by his side. He spoke kindly to the boy while holding the sword to his throat. He bore on his arm an equal-armed cross, with each arm continued at a right angle in anti-clockwise form. The other king wore a dark uniform and carried a gun by his side. He spoke harshly to the boy while holding a gun to his temple. He bore on his arm an equal-armed cross, with each arm continued at a right angle in clockwise form. That dimension became a place of outright horror for the boy.

  In the vision, the boy grew instantly into adulthood where, consumed by rage and hatred, he effused the actions and utterances of the innocent evil. The negativity of his environment was a torture of the most unforgiving kind, and had a diabolical impact on his brilliant, virgin mind. He became degenerate to the core, a condition from which he never fully recovered.

  I saw the boy in all his anger bathed in a violet light. The light simultaneously stimulated him and stoked his anxieties. He was unable to leave the light, though it was unclear to me whether that was by his design or another’s. The light produced in him personal atrocities; microscopic afflictions which altered his very nature. The boy seemed not to notice or not to care, yet the more he subsisted in the light, the more acute his condition became.

  Suddenly, the light retracted to a singular point within him, before it rapidly expanded again. It instantly vaporizing the boy, removing him from his earthy environment, and thrusting him into another time and state in the deep omniverse. There, he was confronted by a pink entity who saw in the boy divine potential. The pink one embraced the boy and led him by the hand around the omniverses, training him and purging from him the influences of the kings’ ideologies. At the same time, he harnessed and directed the effects of the violet light, which continued to transform the boy’s constitution. The pink one saw in the boy the hallmarks of deity, hallmarks which would remain unrealised without the correct training.

  In the vision I saw the dreams of the boy. He was dreaming of a white room. This was the only time I saw the boy smile. His smile was like the heavens, endless and beautiful. The white room of which he was dreaming was wonderful to the boy, because it had the two ultimate qualities he had all his life longed for and prized more than anything else: safety and distance. The white room was unsearchable and impenetrable. It was the only thing that lay beyond the omniverses.

  How the boy loved the white room. He would visit it with increasing frequency. The more depressed and anxious he became in the real worlds, the more he would return to the solace of the white room. There he was free from others, free from pursuit, free from turmoil, free from pain and free from any purpose placed upon him. There, he could release his primal agonies, he could be separate from his material body, he could be himself in his purest form. He was untouchable.

  At that time, three red-winged creatures flew in gyroscopic circles around the white room crying, “Blessed is the one who is allowed to enter the white room!”

  The pink one then explained to the boy the meaning of the white room. He said, “In the white room, you are God.” The boy’s eyes widened on hearing this. The pink one continued. “In the silence of the white room, you have control. You control everything. Everything. Peace belongs to you and cannot be taken from you. Likewise, fear is unknown in the room. It can never visit you there, nor can pain. In the white room, there is only bliss. Everything in the white room is predetermined by you. You are God there. Untouchable. Intangible. Eternal.”

  The boy was radiant with happiness. The pink one spoke on. “But only in the white room. Once you leave the white room, you return and are subject to the laws and predeterminations of the omniverses. Do you understand?” The boy nodded. “The white room,” continued to pink one, “is both useless and almighty. And access is only granted to those few who have endured the greatest pain of all: love.”

  In the vision I saw that love was a virtue of the lower tiers. The powers and deities of the higher tiers neither knew nor understood love. Having human qualities, the boy had known love in all its torrents of abuse, in its unrequitedness and in all its pain; and as a result, access to the white room was given to him. I saw the boy in the white room. He was so happy. So happy. Alone with his thoughts, alone with his gentle feelings, alone. And there the boy could establish firmly the one predetermination that had always been lacking in his life: justice. In the boy’s white room, justice and goodness co-existed without compromise. In the other dimensions of the omniverse, predetermination lay in the actions of those within those dimensions, and as such, was held to ransom by them.

  And I saw the boy standing before a time-honoured, mahogany bench. He was being called to account. The three red-winged creatures flew above the bench crying, “Woe! Woe! Woe! Woe is the one
who is unable to give an account of his life!” The creatures flew with one wing, and with the other wing they covered their eyes.

  I saw an enormous gavel come thundering down on the bench, and a voice spoke from beyond it, rich, beautiful and terrifying. “49% just, 51% unjust! Into the abyss!” Darkness began to descend on the room, but before it could consume the boy a voice called out from behind him.

  “He has never known love!” It was the pink one. His voice was raw and desperate. “He was raised without love! Have mercy! His evil is borne of innocence!” In a frozen twilight, a long, eerie silence followed this interjection before the pink one spoke again. “Grant me access to the white room.” On hearing this, the three winged creatures flew away and hid in fear. The room began to fill with billows of smoke, and when nothing more could be seen, the majestic voice called out, “Granted”.

  Then I saw the pink one approach the white room. He entered it radiant, yet trembling with fear. The effect was cataclysmic. In the white room where he was both God of nothing and God of everything, he endeavoured to recreate another of his kind, only more knowledgeable and more powerful. The metaphysical shift this produced allowed him to take the predeterminations of the white room into the omniverse, and by doing so, save the boy and purge the evil that he had chosen.

  Yet the success of the shift was only partial. The clash between the predeterminations of the white room, and the tiers and dimensions of the omniverse, was so catastrophic that both began to fall in on each other. On and on they fell, realm after realm, dimension after dimension, predetermination after predetermination. The vision of this that I saw could barely contain the sight of it all, nor the sound. Eventually it collapsed into a small hole of eternal blackness the size of a kumquat, and there it stayed suspended in mid-air, pregnant with violence, chaos and reorder.

  Stupefied, I asked what the meaning of this was. Three more winged creatures with white bodies and black heads flew across in front of me. They had the wings of a bird, the feet of a frog and the face of a bear, and together they called “Seven and ever, seven and ever more, seven and again!”

  “What does it mean?” I asked them.

  A fourth winged creature flew before me, this one larger and with a dappled plumage. “It means,” it said, “that the omniverse will remain in darkness for seven trillion earth years. Then the ever, ever more and again will come to an end.”

  Immediately all four winged creatures departed with haste. The small, black hole, swirling suspended before me, then exploded. The ground I was standing on shook vigorously, and I had to cover my ears from the sound. Then I understood that the pink one had caused a Big Bang and inadvertently restarted the omniverse. And from the centre of the explosion, racing faster than the speed of light as it had been known, was the first sign of a new light.

  Round two

  I, Negi, was shocked by these visions, and spoke into the light which delivered them.

  “Is this Big Bang the end or the beginning?”

  “Be silent and wait patiently.” The voice came from the light that was emanating at speed from the centre of the Big Bang. I duly waited but I can’t say how long the wait was.

  Then a bubble of thin light, expanding in size, moved toward me from out of the darkness. And within the bubble of light, I saw a baby in a rice field. It was utterly helpless and vulnerable to predators and disease.

  “Who will protect the baby?” I asked.

  “Behold!” came the reply. “The pink one shall protect the baby.” And I saw the pink entity, the same one I had seen earlier in the vision, pick up the baby and hold him tightly to his breast. He ran off with the baby in his arms to raise him in safety and to train him in all righteousness.

  In the vision I then saw three newts scurry through the air in front of me. Together they cried, “A few and many and only a very few! Blessed are the very few!”

  “What does this mean?” I asked. “Who are the very few?”

  “The few are those in the second omniverse who claim to remember the first omniverse, but can’t. The many are those who neither remember, nor claim to remember the first omniverse. And the very few are those who truly can remember the first omniverse, whether they claim to or not.”

  “Is the baby one of the very few?”

  “Write what you see,” I was told.

  I saw the pink one speaking with those who were of the very few. Some of them handed him precious stones, others handed him effluent. The pink one lay the precious stones on the forehead of the baby to protect it from the hatred and fear of its previous existence. But when the stones were removed from the baby’s forehead, effluent remained where the stones had been. When the pink one tried to wipe the effluent from the brow of the baby, it remained as though a shadow across the mind of the infant. I was troubled by this, and asked again what it meant.

  “It means that some entities will try to manipulate the pink one by claiming memory of the first omniverse, so as to corrupt his mentoring of the baby. In so doing they will bring out the innate evil in the baby, despite the precious efforts of the pink one to raise him in purity and righteousness. As the child grows, he will find the hatred and fury of his former existence seeping through into his current one. He will not know why, and he will not be able to remove the effluent from his life no matter how hard he tries. The child will grow in this wretched dichotomy of righteous knowledge and evil nature.”

  As soon as the voice had finished speaking I saw the babe, now a boy, grab a rabbit and dash it against rocks to its death. I cried out, “No! Don’t do it! Such a thing should never be done!” but he couldn’t hear me. But it wasn’t the act that horrified me, it was the look on the boy’s face. It was a sadistic mix of contemplation and pleasure. Then for the first time in these series of visions, the young boy spoke. He said with a voice of deep contentment, "I'm sorry, but it felt like heaven. Watching the light leave its eyes made me feel safe and good.”

  The pink one was unperturbed by this behaviour and continued to love the boy, nurturing him toward his divine potential. Despite the disturbing nature of these developments, the pink one never lost faith in the boy or himself.

  Then I saw another vision, terrible and wonderful, and it shook me to my core. This vision came before all the others, yet it also came after them and its narrative runs through all of them. An ancient deity, powerful and wise, good and caring, created a world of beauty and light. He was pleased with his world yet sad, for its inhabitants denied him. In his loneliness, he reached out and had a child with one of the inhabitants, a young woman of great inner beauty. Yet his own iniquitous actions grieved him and in his distress, he destroyed his creation and every living thing within it.

  When the deity saw what he had done, and that love was no longer within him or proceeding from him, he destroyed himself. The energy produced by this was so monumental it restarted the omniverses. In his final act, however, two eternal outcomes resulted. The first was that essential fragments of himself could not be destroyed. These fragments descended into a quiet world on the edge of the omniverse where they were embedded into the soil near a trickling, silver stream. They grew into a tree, grand and magnificent, which in time, and throughout time, came to have tremendous influence on the realms and dimensions of the omniverses. The second outcome was that despite his intentions and powers, he was not able to destroy the child that he had created with the woman. The child grew up to be known by many as "the boy who lived twice a million times”.

  I saw then that this was the same boy who had come under the tutelage of the pink one.

  Finally, I saw a collection of boxes, some big, some small, spread out as far as the eye could see. Some of the boxes were simple, while others were ornately decorated. The pink one was very intentional about the order with which he opened the boxes and gave them to the boy. All of the boxes belonged to the boy, yet the pink one guarded them faithfully and kept them from being opened until the appointed time. There was one especially beautiful box, ri
chly adorned with all kinds of precious stones and gold layerings. The pink one kept this behind him, out of site of the boy. Inside the boxes were the secrets of the omniverses. And inside the richly adorned box was the greatest secret of all.

  While the boy was opening one of the boxes, a king, huge and powerful, appeared for a brief moment. He spoke in a foreign tongue, but for some reason it was completely understandable to me. He said, "Ah...second time around I see”. As soon as he retreated another king appeared, this time small and weak, saying, "Somehow I knew you would be here”.

  The pink one moved to shield the boy from these kings and their statements, but the boy heard and became confused by what they were saying. In the movement, the boy saw the richly adorned box that had been hidden behind the pink one, and asked to see inside it. The pink one resisted but the boy’s persistence overcame him, and he opened the richly adorned box and showed him its contents. This happened before the appointed time.

  Inside the box was the boy’s divine destiny. Having seen it ahead of the appointed time, the destiny was not what it would have been had it been opened at the right time. The boy’s divine righteousness was laid bare, incomplete and compromised. Though the pink one had succeeded in purging virtually all evil from the boy, flecks of it remained, and these became as a virus working through a host. The boy, ascending to divinity, remained corrupted.