Note: this article contains graphic descriptions of trauma and programming setups under Mengele
At the moment I was born, and took my first breath, my birth mother was killed by being pulled apart as I came out of the birth canal. This trauma was designed to create a guilt that the programmers would build upon the rest of my life: the belief that by living, I “killed” my birth mother. The guilt would be used to drive me to perform ceaselessly over the years in an unconscious attempt to justify being alive.
A ritual was done immediately, in which one of the people I had bonded with in the womb (my primary trainer – a father I loved) began to suffocate me, asking me if I would accept a demon present behind him; if I did, he would let me live. I agreed, and was allowed to breathe.
I was given to a woman to nurse, one of several nannies at the cult facility I was raised in who would nurse me, rock me, and sing me songs about the group I was in, the heroes in the group who performed great deeds, and songs of praise to Satan.
My genetic mother and father were also present, and participated in a ritual that dedicated me to Satan.
Afterwards, I was taken to the newborn nursery where other infants in my group (we were raised in groups of 12) were in their cribs. Each infant in a group was born within a day or two of each other. My birth date was January 5, an important date to the group I was born to: Epiphany. I was considered one of the “gifts of the magi” to the group, and many other infants were born on this date as well.
From my first breath, the programming was non-stop for the first three years. The programming involved numerous setups in which trainers dressed as various “deities” (“celestial beings”) appeared by my crib, clothed in white or silver robes, and glowing with a soft light, as their kind voices taught me to love them – and to identify with them.
Others trainers dressed as “demons” and showed the splits created just before their appearance how to act and sound like a demon, with guttural growls, snarls, etc. These splits learned as toddlers to enjoy eating raw flesh, the only food they were allowed.
The highest (core) systems were bonded to trainers who dressed as ascended beings. Their eyes were covered with crystals to prevent me as an infant from seeing human eyes, since these parts were taught to hate and fear mortals through setups that involved “humans” or “mortals” raping and torturing them, until the “ascended beings” rescued and comforted them. I bonded completely to these creatures that appeared in various forms: a young form (appearing like a small dinosaur), a huge form (resembling Jabba the Hut or a similar grotesque appearance) and a beautiful form, looking much like a beautiful human but with unhuman eyes.
My love for these creatures would be tested time and again over the years. These parts felt that only these “celestial” creatures could love them, and they all held one feeling in common: they utterly despised mortals and the human race, who had tortured them in the womb, and were committed to the destruction of the human race (my fetal rage was held by them).
Celestial Paradise and “Hell” programming
As a baby, I was placed in a special baby carrier designed as a chariot in the programming labs. This chariot slowly rose upwards on a clear cable to an upper level of the lab staged to look like celestial paradise. In this “paradise” beings dressed in silvery white robes greeted me, held me, comforted me and gave me sweet drinks and cake. Harp music played, and a celestial “choir” sang songs of the joy of ascending. I realize that this sounds more like a Hollywood studio than a programming lab, but a young infant is very susceptible to believing these setups, since they have limited life experience to balance it against. As an infant, I truly believed I was “ascending to the heavenly realms” and loved the experience – and the beings who lovingly greeted me there.
As an infant, I was also taken at other times to “hell”, which was a programming studio at a lower level. Trainers dressed as Abbadon and Apollyon came to my crib, grabbed me, and told the young infant me that I was going to be “punished for my sins” of “disobedience.” It was a terrifying experience as they took me down a long, dark tunnel to a place lit with flames, with demonic creatures (young trainees in costume) dancing around poles where victims were tied and being tortured. As I descended into this place of horror and fear, I heard the “demons” discussing how young and tender I looked, as they drew nearer and tried to cut some flesh off with a knife, or spear me with a fork. I screamed in terror, and then “Satan” appeared and “rescued” me in this setup (in others, various people, such as the trainers I was bonded to, or a messiah figure were the ones who rescued). “Satan” scooped me up and took me away, telling me that as long as I obeyed him, I would be safe and he would protect me.
By the time I was three years old, I was utterly and completely committed to the belief that those who obey “ascend” and those who disobey cult directives and orders “descend.” The proselytizing that began in the womb, and reinforced heavily, had taken hold. I had internalized the creatures ranging from angels, to demons, to celestial beings, to dragons, and others inside, and had created an internal “heaven” and “hell” to hold them in. Punishment for questioning the group’s orders included the inside parts being dragged into the internal hell by internal representations of Abbadon and Apollyon, and rewards for instant obedience and good performance (such as killing on command, doing sacrifices well, etc.) included being allowed to visit “paradise” and communicate with the beings there.
I was considered successfully spiritually programmed by the trainers who installed these setups and beliefs. It would not be until years later, when I became a Christian, that I learned to my great surprise that the Bible never mentions a hell populated by “demons” who are overseen by “Satan” with the power to “torture” individuals; instead, the concept of Sheol is quite different, and the gehenna of final judgment is very different from the cult setups I experienced.
Early Loyalty and Anti-Christian Programming
Loyalty was considered one of the greatest imperatives of the Order, and extensive time and thought was put into the programming for loyalty. Men and women dressed in shabby clothes would come into the nurseries where the babies were, shouting “we are traitors and are here to get you.” They would hit, rape and abuse us; all the babies would be screaming, until one of the Fathers would come in and “rescue” us from these terrible “traitors”. Numerous setups of this type were done, until the mere mention of the word ‘traitor’ would make our infant hackles rise.
A man dressed as “Jesus” would also walk into the infant nursery at times, abusing the infants and causing intense dislike and pain. Again, the infants were “rescued” by one of the Fathers, who “chased” him away.
Presentation and Amnesia Programming
Because the Jesuits are international, they create presentations to be hosted in various presentations in the infants. Nine presentations were created for the infants in the group I was in: a presentation for America, another for the UK, another for France, another for Germany, one for Italy, one for Japan (where the Jesuits have a large interest and alliances with the clans that operate there), one for Russia, one for Amsterdam and one for Israel. The latter was considered one of the most important, since the Jesuits do extensive intelligence operations against the Mossad and Israel, and have numerous agents placed there.
The programming labs had rooms set up, where members of the future host families would meet with and interact with me. I met my parents and siblings from each of the families I would have in these various nations, and they took family photos with me, talked with me in the host country language, and worked on my amnesia cues (to prevent bleedthrough, or having memories or speaking in the “wrong” language). I grew close to the other siblings and my new parents, and was warned in the various presentations to never remember the cult facility, and for presentations to never remember living in another country, on pain of the death of the host family. Sacrifices were done several times during the first three years, and agreements made to keep the amnesia intact between presentations intact.
In one country (France), to my joy I was to be hosted with my identical twin, E. We both loved our times together during the presentation programming, where we were taught how to be part of a “normal” family and interact normally, to create our covers within these countries and cover the fact that we were actually raised in a cult facility.
The closest friends and family members in each of the host countries were, of course, cult members, since for the first three years, I spent almost all of my time in a cult facility and would not be actually spending time in the host countries until I was three years old.
Just before I went to host in the countries, each time, an important event occurred. I would be asked to “remember” living in the cult facility, would say something about it to the host parents. That night, a baby sibling (considered expendable, but allowed to bond with me over the past several months) would be killed in front of me because I “remembered”. This trauma was used to seal the amnesia between presentations. The cult host (the real “host” in an international system) also made agreements to never allow memories of the “real” (cult) life rise to awareness in the presentations. The Fathers would have me go into a room where a Jesuit Father was present, along with the host family, and later ask me if I remembered anything unusual. If I remembered the Father, who I loved greatly, the Father was brought into the room and tortured in front of me, to my screams and distress, because I had “remembered” the cult life. I was supposed to completely forget seeing a father when in my presentation, to completely “blank out” any memory of this other life.
In one setup, I would go into a room where cult objects were placed. My presentation was switched out. Later, I was asked what I had seen in the room. One time, at age two, I remembered and reported seeing a dead body and a chalice, and a Father in the room. The Father then came into the room, held a gun to my head, and said I would have to be killed, since my remembering would endanger the Order. I vowed to always forget. He said I must, or he would be forced to kill me, as sad as that would be. The next time the setup was done, I forgot, and lived. I did know children who actually were shot, because they kept remembering in spite of their trying hard to obey. The gun was not an idle threat; I had one brother shot this way, and never forgot this.
Babies love parties, and there was a special setup done in the programming labs with a pirate ship, jolly pirates, plenty of good soup and cake, songs and holding for the babies. This setup was done to create an internalization that would keep the internal baby parts inside and entertained, unless they were called out to be programmed.
Mengele and Senseless Deaths
Mengele (“Herr Josef” as I knew him) was head of the programming labs during this time. There was one lab in Italy, another in East Germany, and another in Switzerland at this time. He had students who walked around and mimicked him, assisting him. His main assistant was a young woman named “Hilde” with blond hair, blue eyes and an ice cold manner much of the time. Hilde was extremely efficient, and knew exactly what he wanted. Herr Josef was not one of the three Fathers I loved (bonded to primarily) but he was a primary trainer, and I bonded to him out of necessity and survival.
Mengele loved “survival of the fittest” setups, and would place two bottles in the middle of a roomful of infants. A bell would sound, and the infants would all crawl quickly to the bottles; those who got there first and could fight off the other babies “won” and got a bottle that day. The others were killed in front of the survivors, to teach what happened to “slow” or “expendable” babies.
Mengele did not value human life at all. He would kill 99 babies in order to find one baby he felt was “worth keeping” out of a batch. He was terribly manipulative as well. Babies in the nurseries were punished terribly for disobedience. If a baby held onto the bars of the crib, because the baby didn’t want to be taken out to be tortured (programmed), Mengele would chop the hand off in front of the other babies, as an “object lesson”. All babies would watch this scene with round wide eyes and horror, as the consequences of disobedience or hesitation were shown dramatically. Herr Josef would say “That was a BAD baby; you don’t want to be a BAD baby” and all the babies, including me, made the instant decision to never be the “bad baby”.
Only ten babies out of a thousand would survive the first six months in this kind of environment. Mengele and his programmers insisted on absolute, complete obedience even in infancy, including allowing sexual abuse (babies were taught to open their legs on cue and allow this sadistic cruelty without crying), as well as other forms of abuse. If a baby cried too long after a programming session, or failed to greet Mengele with a smile and outstretched arms even after a previous day of unthinkable pain, the baby would be placed in a sliding box that would be locked for a day, abandoned in the dark as punishment for disobedience or “bad behavior”. The baby would be taken out, frantic to be held, and told to never disobey again, or they would be kept in the box “forever”.
I was rewarded for performing well: I would be held by a nanny who rocked me and gave me a bottle, and who would then take me to a window to get a peek at the outside world and sunshine. Or the Fathers I loved would come and spend the precious 15 minutes a day that I cherished, telling me they loved me, holding me, and teaching me what they expected (including allowing sexual abuse).
By the time I was a toddler (15 months), I was put in a cage in a room with dozens of other children my age in another “survival game” that Mengele made up. A buzzer would sound, the cage doors would open, and we would all rush to get food and drink. We had to fight one another to get food. There was only enough for two or three. I remember that after a few days, the little girl in the cage next to me seemed sick; she wouldn’t get up or run any more when the buzzer rang. I felt sad for her, and when I ran and fought and got my food and water, I took some to her, and tried to get her to eat, but she wouldn’t eat or drink. I didn’t understand what was wrong with her, but to my dismay she got weaker each day until one day she fell asleep and didn’t wake up any more. I tried and tried to get her to wake up, but she wouldn’t. Other children were getting sicker and sicker, and only three of us were alive and healthy out of the sixty children. We watched the others slowly die, one by one, and wondered why Herr Josef thought this was a good thing, and praised the three of us so highly. I felt guilty and sad that I was alive and the others had died, and that I couldn’t wake the little girl in the cage next to me up.
In another setup, as a baby I learned to crawl through a maze. At intervals, there would be a bridge; another baby would be crawling from the opposite direction. I had to crawl across the bridge, and get to the other side, or get shocked; so did the other baby. The only way to get across was to push the other baby off the bridge. If I did so (and I always did), I was rewarded with a bottle and no more shocks; but I also had to watch the other baby be killed. I was said, but also knew that the price of my survival was the death of another; Mengele made that very clear in his infant programming.
Mengele had several top assistants who were younger (teens) that I began bonding to. By age 12, children in the Order are considered adults, and they by age 13 were full trainers. One would become my primary trainer during most of my childhood, and was a Father I loved; her name was Father Matthew and I wanted to be just like her when I grew up.
As soon as I could toddle around, I tried to follow her around any time I was allowed to. By age two, I was allowed to wear a little white coat like Fr. Matthew’s, and tried to act and sound like her. I wanted to be a head trainer just like her, and she and the other Fathers said that one day I would, because I did very, very well and learned quickly. Most importantly, I had survived many of the brutal tests of strength and intelligence that Mengele put infants through during the first year of life; I was considered a “keeper” and to have potential by him and the other fathers.
Any infant that survived the facility during this time period was at the top of the charts for strength, intelligence and survival instinct. Those who would be chosen for leadership also had another quality that I had shown by trying to save the little girl next to me: the ability to look out for the interests of others, and the common good. All I knew is that life the first three years was a constant round of pain, testing and sadness with all too few moments of nurture and bonding.
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