RPC-377-3

Deep Sea Phishing


Discovery:

Foreword: Initial retrieval of diluted RPC-377-2 followed a short skirmish between hired hands for the Seventh Life Community moving a shipment of RPC-377-2 (then titled Manna-5) and a small party of Blackhold operatives under Surveyor Arnold Sarren, who had been tailing the group for several weeks after an anonymous tip-off of anomalous drug activity being funneled through Mt. Faith. Subsequent interrogation between Sarren and Seventh Life participant, designated RPC-377-SE5, is transcribed below using recordings ported from a device kept on Sarren’s person at the time of the incident.

Auxiliary Documentation

AUXILIARY DOCUMENTATION: DOCUMENT 377-1: Jimmy's Manuscript


Part of an ongoing recovery of documents restored from the second raid of RPC-377-1. Recovered from Archive 1B in the Cultural Affairs offices at OL-Site-███ under Site Director ████████.

Confiscated by ████████ █ Protection Division, Unit ████ under ████████████ in 2021.


Statement: The following is a transcript of pertinent information salvaged from a cache of philosophical and religious works found underneath the floorboards of a private room adjacent to RPC-377-1. Works recovered include:

  • The New King James Bible, with the Old Testament removed and its pages burned.
  • The Book of Mormon, badly damaged.
  • A diary encoded under a half-cyphered manuscript. All other pages aside from one had been ripped out and burned in the trash-can in the corner of the room.
  • A sketchbook, with art similar to other symbols found on the vats within RPC-377-1.

The translated cyphered text of the diary can be found below. Non-cyphered text is bolded and underlined.

CODE: 5A11I//BJ


THRUST IN THY SICKLE, AND REAP: FOR THE TIME IS COME FOR THEE TO REAP; FOR THE HARVEST OF THE EARTH IS RIPE.

-_--_—_- _ -

IF YE HAVE FAITH YE HOPE FOR THINGS WHICH ARE NOT SEEN, WHICH ARE TRUE.

-_-__-

They always told me to pray when I was younger.

/ it was so beautiful when i found it in those woods those years ago / the thing born from the worlds womb / an angel of the most high / come down from high heaven to me / me / not my brother / not the men and women who mocked me in the stables / me / me alone /

This is all nonsense - all nonsense. But so is everything anyone believes, right? These days at least. Put on a mask, some traditional clothing, wax flowers out of words… the sheep will do anything for you. Anything to belong…

/ i had been dying, a man alone in the woods / i was cold, i was alone / a rich man scorned, but i saw the light /

The corpse was an easy profit. Found it in the woods one day, got doped to hell. I'd spent my whole life trying to be close to God… growing up in a family that did that kind of thing, you know. Old ministry downriver, by the Lakes. Mormon shit. We were Latter-Day Saints. Not taken kindly to in Mt. Faith, but I had a brother here. The black sheep in our family. He made me feel welcome, after I'd lost so much already.

/ i drank the milk from the angels teats blue as sapphires / sup on manna from cradles net / enter the land of dreams / underwater angels / panthers of the deep / to streets of gold / from streets to the pyramid / i saw the MOST HIGH / resurrection key / the cradle of the WORLD / and i wept /

Why be close to God, anyway? Why be close to God, when you could be God? That's something I never understood. No gray-haired sheep on a podium could tell me anything like that. Isn't it our right to learn mysteries?

/ death to life / alpha and omega am i / life to death / brother will never reject me / fathers son /

/ we will unite this town under our grief / for men can rise and indulge upon the flesh and the blood / the gifts we have been given to rise / to reap / to reave /

Teenagers are so easy to grasp, to charm away from their lives. I was the same when I was younger. Always looking to find my place in the world, when the whole time my place wasn't in it anyway. Some days my conscience weighs on me. All those kids. All those parents. Gone. It's fine, though. They die, but then they come back. It's a baptism - a baptism in the Black River between Worlds, blue blood… my very own resurrection key. Reminds me what this is all really about. Every day I put on the mask, drive out of town and back in, get the kids. It's really all about power, isn't it? Power, and…

/ three in one / three heads / me / my brother / enoch on high /

My poor boy…

/ i dream of walking in the forest / i dream of walking to the creek / dreams in the cracks / a city made of trees / diamonds fall in the east / past the ides of BABYLON /

Trust the Spirit. He'll never lead you wrong. That's what my father always told me. But the Spirit never saved my boy when he died. The Spirit never saved my wife from killing herself. The Spirit did nothing. Nothing… nothing until I came to Mt. Faith. I found the real Spirit here…

/ o elias / what am i to you /1

/ we look inside / and are eternal / sapphire spun /

Manna 5. I spoke to my son through the veil the other day, in that city made of trees. They gave me a key. If I'm God… then why not? My son's been dead for years. Why can't I save him? It's just a thought, a passing fancy, but…

/ for men can be angels too /

/ we can be angels too / eat from the father's flesh / and we can /

Could I-

/ and we can /

I-

/ and we can fly /

-_--_-_--__- _ -

/ even the sun cant burn our wings /

My son. My poor boy. I can save-

-_--__- _ —_--____-
_ _--__- _ -
-_-_—
-__

I can save them all.

_____—

seventhlife.png

Fig.2: Strange mural found painted on the west wall of a compartment below 'Jimmy's' room.

09.11.93
Surveyor Reno: In the book there was a key, all red and rusted. We tried it on a trapdoor we found in the burned room, under one of the floorboards. Long shaft down there. Lots of dirt. At the end, though… Saw the painting on the wall. Scrawled there all in golden paint are words, words in chicken scratch. "Resurrection Key", they say. That's not the real part of it, though.
Surveyor Reno: Below it all there was a tub. A tub with a child's body, embalmed and sunk into a pool of that awful blue drug, the vile liquid brimming with mosquito larva. Half the boy's body was nothing but brittle bones. Bones and sallow tendons, a skeleton-child. Taking samples, it was a nightmare. It was so- so real
Surveyor Reno: The boy. He was eleven years old.





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