Enigma

By George Mattheson

In this unique memoir, a diagnosed schizophrenic takes readers inside his experience of reality blending with hallucination.

George Mattheson was born in Guyana and grew up in Trinidad and Tobago before settling in the United States. At age twenty-seven, he was diagnosed with schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. In Enigma, Mattheson shares his experience growing up talking to the Archangel Michael and providing intelligence to the CIA. For the son of intelligence operatives, the CIA was God and Washington, DC, was God’s church.

“I have been experiencing the effects of stigmata lately, so I started to write this novel the best way I know how, by sharing both truth and fiction. For the truth, you’ll have to find it on your own, but the fiction part is what I see in visions, memories, and dreams. It holds a hidden meaning for only the wise to decipher.” —George Mattheson, from Enigma

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Jul 14, 2018
• ISBN: 9781639843053

Book preview

George Mattheson

All rights reserved

Pen It! Publications, LLC

© 2018

ISBN #:    978-1-948390-26-2

Edited by:  Wanda Williams

Cover Art by:  Donna Cook

Second Edition © 2018

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, without the express and prior permission in writing of Pen It! Publications.  Book may not be circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is currently published. 

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.  All rights are reserved.  Pen It! Publications does not grant you rights to resell or distribute this book without prior written consent of both Pen It! Publications and the copyright owner of this book.  This book must not be copied, transferred, sold or distributed in any way. 

Disclaimer:  This book may contain adult language, graphic content and some situations that readers may find unacceptable.  Neither Pen It! Publications, or our authors will be responsible for repercussions to anyone who utilizes the subject of this book for illegal, immoral or unethical use.

This book is a work of fiction, unless otherwise stated.  All characters, places, business, etc. are a work of fiction submitted to Pen It! Publications by the author.  Any resemblance to those living or dead, is purely coincidental. 

The author is responsible for approval of any and all edits and are the final responsibility of the author. 

All inquiries regarding the content included in this book should be directed to Pen It! Publications.

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Copyright © 2017 George Mattheson

Born as the Hand of God

Contents

Birth of Enigma 897             3

Saturday 2100 hours             6

Friday  1800 hours             11

May 6, 2012, Sunday 0200 hours             20

Did This Really Happen?             21

Sunday 2000 hours             25

Sunday 2033 hours             27

Test of Faith             29

Just Get the Manager June 2, 2012             35

Pagal and Pargal             39

Does Anyone Really Want to Know This?                          46

Exodus Due to Rescission and Crime as Seen through My Eyes…………………………………………..52

Recruitment from God             56

June 3, 2012, Sunday………………………...……75

As the Hand of God             ..79

These are some things we use             82

Narvin, Huggie, and Isham             94

Nightlife; Wish to Boogie             99

Who is Dr. K?             101

Frank, Frank, Frances and FranceWA             105

Do I Really Need a Mental Evaluation?             109

Is it perfect timing?             112

The Good Deacon Cat.………………………….133

Enigma:  Just Do the Right Thing is All We Ask!         Do Not Bite!!!..............................................................137

Enigma Alias:  The 666 Trap…………….……...140

Birth of Enigma 897

Click, click. The click was the last sound I heard before I fell into a deeply hypnotized state! I was at 4901 Broadway San Antonio, Texas, Suite 100 the year was 2012. I had already moved from Florida to Texas, placing my past behind me. I had my initial visit with the therapist, Billie. I was referred to her by Dr. K, since he was now in the processes of retiring from his private practice. Dr. K had worked as a psychologist for the FBI, CIA, and DIA (Defense Intelligence Agency).

Billie was an older woman approximately sixty years of age, her hair was silver and gray in color, and she was very soft spoken. You can now only hear my voice, she said to me as she asked me to recount my first memories. I was anxious as I began to recall my first memory and started to twist and turn on the couch. Billie had asked me to lie down. Billie reassured me everything was safe and confidential, and I should take in some deep breaths to relax. As I started to breathe, I slowly became relaxed and began to recount my very first memory.

Being destined to be a vessel of the seven archangels that God created, my earliest memory is of being in space with my brothers and sisters and being chosen by God to defend earth’s future. God blessed many as prophets and sent them to earth to tell of the upcoming events and that he is a loving entity. We were all happy for the most part, as I first thought, but I was still a newborn compared to my brothers and sisters, whose souls are greater than time. We were God’s favorite creation, until our brother Lucifer transgressed against God, taking a third of our population with him.

There were many who came before us when God created the earth from out of what seemed like nothing. The concept of time is different, and it did only take seven days in which to create the earth, but we were so far away and in a distant galaxy. The creation of this universe was done through perfectly timed technological advancements. God and my brothers and sisters were able to see what had happened and what needed correcting so it is always.

Yes, human form was devised by God to be resilient, but we—I say we for my consciousness was transferred to a human vessel for the powers of my brothers and sisters— will be used to defend the earth in the upcoming years. For there are other factions out there almost as powerful as God, and being wise, he saw their evil ways and what they could do if they gathered together against God and the faithful.

I have been experiencing the effects of stigmata lately, so I started to write this novel the best way I know how, by being both truth and fiction. For the truth, you’ll have to find it on your own, but the fiction part is what I see in visions, memories, and dreams. It holds a hidden meaning for only the wise to decipher.

Saturday

2100 hours

It is now approximately 2100 hours on an obscure Saturday night. I have sat down in my home office and begun to reflect on my past. My colleague and friend, whom we’ll refer to from this point on as Dr. K, was not only my most trusted confidant, but my recruiter for the intelligence field. I suspect he was also a colleague of both my father and my mother. He told me once that if I ever wrote a book, he would buy the first copy.

Dr. K is now approximately eighty years old and has some of the features and mannerisms of my father, which I never noticed until recently. My father is ninety years old, and I bet they led interesting lives since they were both already alive and in the intelligence field during World War II; they have since retired. But this is not their life story; it’s my life story as a spy, a messenger, and a vessel. I guess the best place to begin is in the beginning.

I was born in South America in the 1970s; or at least, this is what I was led to believe most of my life. I later found out, in my teenage years, I was actually not born in South America. It was a time of unrest in the United States when I was born. So, my mother had moved to Georgetown, Guyana. I was born at devil’s midnight, which is 3:00 a.m., on a Thursday night. I was the fourteenth child born at the hospital located on 897 Coral Street, Georgetown.  There were thirteen girls born before me between midnight and devil’s midnight. I weighed around twelve pounds at birth.

The doctors at the facility were so happy that I was finally created. They each blessed me with a hundred dollars. Most of the doctors had been trained in genetic research, and there was a special sector of the hospital dedicated to genetic manipulation and extraterrestrial research. The research did not seem to have any tangible results, so they were closed down ten years after my birth. I realized at the