Monday, February 7, 2011

The Dark Hands of Agaliarept (Reedited: 2-2011)

The Dark Hands of Agaliarept

You may find this strange, but I will try to explain it the best I can. In July, of 2005, I woke up choking, someone, or thing, had closed up, squeezed tight, my breathing cords I was gasping for air, almost died: after a moments hesitation, and no other recourse, I started to pray, right there on the spot. I had been sleeping, perhaps REM sleep, I don’t know, it seemingly was a dead sleep, and perhaps drifted back into a more REM style form of sleeping; I had noticed my neck getting tighter, I mean my neck was being sucked in, my throat was blocked, tighter and tighter it became.
Now, let me backtrack a few decades, in 1984, I had a vision of black hands trying to cover my eyes, a demonic creature no doubt—if we wanted to call this a nightmare we could do that also, but it was one step beyond that I do believe—but I leave that up to the reader’s discretion. At this point anyhow, my mother now gets into the story—here we were living together, and she saw a demonic face peering through our third story window, a new Christian, one who had just come to Christ, sixty-four years old. So if the reader is thinking: woops now we got a daydreamer, having nightmares, all I can say is the Lord says in the Bible: The foolish man in his heart says there is no God,” because, there definitely is another world the circles around us. So we see demonic forces tracking a family perhaps here.
Agaliarept is Satan's Henchman in hell and he has a Division of demonic soldiers, under his command: and since they do not need sleep, overtime is not an issue. Evidently, Agaliarept, or one of his obedient corporals, privates, sergeants or perhaps even an officer—for they do have an hierarchy in the House of Hades, as God does in the House of Heaven or Paradise. Evidently, I became a thorn in his side—I had become a Christian in 1984, and now my mother sometime after that; thus, annoying the higher elite, in the House of Hades, and now we were not seeing eye to eye on some things, and at this time, I was working on a manuscript called: The Last Trumpet: and the Woodbridge Demon, which got lost (and plainly got his attention, and he wanted to keep it lost), all three copies of the manuscript had gotten lost for some thirteen-years, and then I found it miraculously one day, found it hidden among a ton of paper I thought I had checked a few dozen times before—; it was as if it had appeared out of nowhere. And then immediately I sent it to a publisher and they edited it; I sent it—right then and there—in fear that I might misplace it again, or that it could get lost.
The manuscript incorporated all the visions I had within an eighteen month period. Much of it prophecy, that actually took place, then, and is taking place now, as I write this, and will continue after I’m long gone I presume. I gave it to a clergy to edit at first, and review, he died, and I could never get the copy back, it was misplaced. The second clergy I gave it to lose it also, so he says. And you already know I misplaced it.
Now again, last night in the dark, in my shady like bedroom, I'm sleeping next to my wife, short as she is, she was laying down farther, or so I thought from me. I'm up towards the head of the bed; she’s more down towards the back of the bed. I sleep, when I do fall to sleep, like solid-stone, and my wife has more of an alarm clock inside her little system—I do not, and she checks things out more than I do, is more alert than I am, perhaps the accountant in her. So something again creeps into the bedroom (this is at about 3:O0 a.m.) my wife had woken up for some odd reason—prior to this, and was out in the living room, working on the computer, transferring a hand written manuscript, called: "The Curse of the Abyss Worm," transferring it onto the computer (a book that still hasn’t been published as of this reediting update, of February, 2011, from its original writing of August, 2005, six years have now passed).
Those dark hands appear again, this time in a conscious, or semi conscious dream, or perchance it is a trance of some sort, or is it that I am half awake—and it is a personifying vision of the demon again, who’s to say. I'm not sure, and all of a sudden chocking, hard and sharp choking takes grip on my neck, and I scream—while I can, and the hands let go, as I had commanded them to do so, in the name of Jesus Christ, and they were dark, and my wife jumped out of bed, so I thought, but really she came running into the bedroom, from the computer, turned on the light asked what was the problem. She looked about, saw nothing, I said very little to her: "It's just a bad dream," I implied, as not to worry her. But now the hands had grabbed my stomach, matter-of-fact, I’d show her, and myself the red marks to prove it in a moment’s time, and my hands were free, to my sides; there was a very noticeable bruised section to the left upper part of my abdomen.
I’m not sure why he went for that area, aggressively trying for the second time to harm me, perhaps missing his mark, I don’t know, or on the other hand, just to cause pain; but when you’re commanded through the Lord, as I had done to him, and the Lord acknowledges your command as a request, and grants it, I would think that area is taboo, for the demonic forces—lest they wish to challenge Jesus eye to eye, and I doubt that; the second thought on this matter is: perhaps there was another angelic presence, all conjecture of course.
And so, for those who sleep, and think you are safe, let me tell you, be that as it may, I have dealt with the other world for a long time, and they are real, as real as you and I, and they have the advantage of seeping into both realms, and we do also, too a certain degree. As well as there are some demonic forces that can cause nightmares, others can cause disease, and from my point of view, alarming dilemmas as in my case. So sleep well, and goodnight. [8/29/2005]

PS. Sometimes I think, conceivably these hands could have been the hands of Uámak, another demonic force, who once I saw on the edge of a cliff (that was similar to a dream-vision, if I recall), looking down into the sea, I think it was in Iceland, where I once visited; a soldier perhaps of the Henchman, Agaliarept.

August 29, 2005/628 (Reedited: 2-7-2011)