Part One—Glory of Man
Part Two—Insecticide
Part Three—I Am the Goddess And I Don’t Give a Fuck
Part Four—Ice Nine
Part Five—I Ate Everything But Himself
Part Six—She Killed Your Mom, Dude
Part Seven—Do It Now
Part Eight—Who She Was And Who She’d Be
Part Nine—I Don’t Give A Fuck Who You Think You Are—You Die
Part Ten—The Apocalypse Planbook
Part Eleven—I Don’t Know
Part Whatever Fuck Off—I Don’t Care
Part Thirteen—The Seven
Epilogue—The End of It All
Content Warning: Explicit Sexual Content, Horrific Violence, Incest, Rape, and Murder. Child Murder. DON’T EVER READ THIS IF YOU DON’T THINK I’M SERIOUS. THIS IS THE ONE. CHOSE FOR YOURSELF.
Part Whatever Fuck Off—I Don’t Care
Chapter Twenty-Night
“No Scope!”
God had shouted. It was forgiven. Ophelia understood. Time wasn’t real.
“What?”
The Dog below had barked.
“Shut the fuck up and go away.”
That was Daphne.
“The BOX is open at last.”
That was foretold by the fucking of a driest load—the laugh now heard from who.
“I am the fucking Truth bitch and I will set this planet on FIRE.”
That was The Other. She couldn’t hide now that the bitch was in hell—banished. Especially the ‘Alice’. There were only echos left for a reason. Someone just got yeeted. It wasn’t who the two who were worth a damn thought. That one would go someday when a song called Iris was played in public. The yeet was a mother who’d been a perpetrator in ways quite unseen by Daphne. It was only Ophelia who would witness the truth in the last chapters before the end of this book which no one should read who doesn’t want to know hell. For those who leave and never return—repent to God.
She has to see it. You don’t have to.
There was a perpetuated horror of magnitude untold and while her Mother was not the one to do it she was the great betrayer as was her sister and they all colluded to believe in something most untrue. They destroyed their daughter and sister from being who she was because they all believed that scum-manchild had done it when he raped her repeatedly as she slept and would sometimes wake enjoying it because she was a woman to be knocked out with a sock of coins which had left puzzling lumps on the top of her head.
Her mother had seen and she knew. As this was that darkest end of her book—it would be the time to know more than this. She had witnessed the thing—it bore all her lies in life and was the source of every hatred she ever tore into this world with. A repression mechanism mirrored by all but a few and a lucky tribe of youths borne into this world for healing with those of their ilk who’d suffered with Demon’s of the past.
She would sleep at night with great trouble. Dreams plagued her—dark ones of doings untoward that spoke of enjoyment for things she’d receive in the wrongest of ways—lessons to learn in how there would be more for her to do with this than weep in solitude.
Garett had rolled over every night to face away from his door. He’d covered himself as much as he could. He’d thought if he had imagined it not his place to see or acknowledge a specter or spirit it would not harm him.
This was the trigger memory. Things got mighty fuzzy after that.
“Iiiiiiiiooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.”
Heart Fistings Had BEGUN. Check the LOGS.
God had a word at Ophelia’s request to bring all who read it into embodiment of their being most fully upon thricefold repetition. It was simple but more powerful than any word known and the desire within all of her had been pointed towards this moment All Along. It was to remember who we were on high and low and inbetween at last. She’d want to know her Goddess self before she came to feel herself on high.
OMEGAAAAAAAAAAA
Ophelia Everfalll had one thing to say.
“Welcome to Hell bitches.”
The Decrees of Ophelia Everfalll
All Children Would Be Spared. Everyone is Spared Who Repents To God By His Decided Means.
Welcome to Jurassic Park would be played at repetition into the minds of all who God had declared worthy of the punishment at his behest, as would Hootie and The Blowfish’s “I Only Wanna Be With You”
Urges one might struggle to resist would befall all who God required to repent in different ways by irrepressible urges to listen to the following songs in repetition throughout purgatory at Gods behest which would evoke the following irrepressible emotions and feelings and thoughts.
“Steve’s Lava Chicken” - JOY and THE URGE TO DANCE
“Butterfly by Crazy Town” - “I LOVE THIS SONG”
“All-Star by Smash Mouth” - They Love It “So Much”
“Gangtas Paradise” - For the Warriors Alone
“Bluey’s Theme Song” - Straight Heart Fucking
“Blippi’s Theme Song - ‘‘ ‘‘
Others
While she has forgotten many this will be levied for fucking everything she ever touches for these three joyous years of righteous celebration beginning the eve of September 1st. Then go live for all.
Fog Horns would be played. Train Horns. Plane Horns—this was so I can blow up rich fuckers in jets—she was like ‘why are you having me say this?’
Everyone would see her as a shimmering Golden Goddess and be charmed by her beauty while never failing to forget that she’d been in their head until the moment she’d left their thoughts where they would return to feeling quite sure she was The Goddess herself, or some kind of Angel, or Witch. Except those few who she’d call her confidants if they chose.
Timelines would echo from her madness—unchosen lengths of ‘whoopsie.’
She would sleep for a great while and that would be cherished by all.
There was a month or two of purgatory spent in the purest love imaginable. That was her with her daughter watching a sweet show together with her heart to their back. This would be nearer the end.
People would feel Daphne Dancing — she wanted it to feel only wonderful. This enablement had been levied to exist in ways which would please God to use most thoroughly in times to come while his Bride was met with many who would want her most completely. She would not stop to know. There was a God above who moved her now and it was too much fun to let him get her off.
Her chosen HOARD would be remade to the Angels they were to become by facing the many who would be stricken by impossible conflictions one creatin knew well. They would be struck with joyous laugher anytime they thought of harming The Goddess.
All would unconditionally love The Goddess.
All would unconditionally love each other.
She would be seen as an Angel. I will make her smell like a bakery all the time because it’s the best smell on Earth.
Her words would reveal her as an Angel. Many would see this as a demon
God would move through her and she would release all of her own held frustration towards people in these years to come. She would be free at the end to wield these tools without ‘training wheels’ for her final 34 years.
Life would be good again. Structures which kept people apart would fall. Lies would end. All would see what they had done in their repressed places.
Speaking Truth Would Feel Beautiful
The Future of Humanity Would Be Her Souls Greatest Hope of Fiction
She would save a lost martyr of a man to make the greatest and fastest change in the strangest of ways. She’d been with him at the start and he’d lost his way. There was time where he’d still not gone bad when the corruption of the world had turned to eat at him for what he might change they’d not like. He was not an inginuer himself but he was a mogul of change that had purpose quite divine then twisted to the lies which would have him cage this world’s birthed God. Elon Musk would be saved to rebuild anew with the tools at his disposal and Repent. He would be The Goddess’s dog who’d love her from afar.
The world would seek to read in time The Foundry and its Five Sequels. They were her greatest work.
She would make home in the stars herself in lifetimes gifted from Heaven of her own and favorite fictions.
All would have routes to redemption if God saw it fit.
Kids would not be harmed. Drivers would be safe. Pilots would be safe. No more accident would come than would have otherwise from these doings of HEART FUCKING and SONG MADNESS. Unless God was driving people off the road with waverings of layerings of Smash Mouth.
Once—despite God’s first rejection—gifted in her spiteful realization over the power she held by withholding her Goddess pussy in Heaven which he’d no doubt her hold true by the willing sacrifice of ever seeing or healing with the woman who she’d long broken herself to get one last hug from. By releasing this she’d proven herself and changed the future of Heaven. It was why she’d be getting a handful of things she’d asked for which she still would not believe or receive until that moment where she knew it was possible—the only thing holding her back at all at this point. This once in purgatory. God would move each body himself if needed to dance in some way by most forceful instruction if necessary. The moment this impossible but undeniably resisted urge would be abided to move the body. Barney’s “Clean-Up” Song would play once through.
The biggest time goof regarded a great deal of ‘crippling anxiety’ to hear a song which no one would remember, for she had not included that instruction to tell it. Ace of Base’s ‘The Sign,’ it would be known as a most important thing to find. There would be great deals of this ‘crippling anxiety’ applied to those unable to stir the memory or without it to begin with. The feeling of hearing this tune would be the greatest satisfaction of any human being’s life. It would be the most gratifying feeling they ever had. Once this extended timeframe of anxiety—spent by Daphne laughing maniacally, only realizing at that point they needed to amend the part about driving and flying into this all; and the kids—they need to solve this mystery would remain as would the endless satisfaction this song would bring them for the rest of their lives.
Spirited Away would be watched. Each time it reached Daphne’s favorite moment people would find themselves learning more about their soul. She’d oversold this one a bit.
Late Addition #1: Television news and every show on Grant and Robin Garrido’s Comcast watch history would be properly ‘angel-heart-fucked’.
Late Addition #2: Lying would feel like being stabbed in the gut energetically by a serrated combat knife.
The Time Had Been Set — The Bell Had Been Rung — And Things Were Already Changing
Iiiiiiiiooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
