Secrets of an Evil God (Insights Into the Workings of a Malevolent Deity)

By Alex Raponi

A peculiar encounter with a sinister deity and creator of the material world. "Secrets of an Evil God" is a thought-provoking exploration into the intricate web of control, manipulation, and deception that has shaped human society for centuries. Authored by the enigmatic Yale, the book delves deep into the dark corridors of power, shining a light on the hidden mechanisms that govern our lives.

From the ancient foundations of Rome to the present-day corridors of the Vatican, Yale exposes the sinister forces at play behind the facade of religion, politics, and finance. Drawing on historical insights, religious texts, and contemporary observations, the narrative unveils a chilling reality where the quest for power knows no bounds.

Through meticulous analysis and compelling storytelling, "Secrets of an Evil God" challenges readers to question the status quo and confront the uncomfortable truths that lie beneath the surface. It offers a stark warning against blind obedience and urges individuals to reclaim their autonomy in the face of pervasive control.

This book is a wake-up call for those who dare to peer beyond the veil of illusion and seek the truth behind the shadows. With its bold assertions and provocative revelations, "Secrets of an Evil God" invites readers on a journey of discovery, empowerment, and enlightenment.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.R. Publishing
• Release date: Apr 8, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224349197

Book preview

Secrets of an Evil God (Insights Into the Workings of a Malevolent Deity)

Alex Raponi

Published by A.R. Publishing, 2024.

Secrets of an Evil God

Insights Into the Workings of a Malevolent Deity

By Alex Raponi

––––––––

Copyright © 2017 Alessandro Raponi

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review. Trademarked names appear throughout this book. Rather than use a trademark symbol with every occurrence of a trademarked name, names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark. The information in this book is distributed on an as is basis, without warranty. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this work, neither the author nor the publisher shall have any liability to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

We live in curious times, whereby it is honest people rather than the thieves who are obliged to hide.

This book is dedicated to all those who wonder why.

Contents

Contents

I - Coffee With a Stranger

II - Sumerian Beer

III - They are Filters

IV - Osteria d’Er Divino

V - A Divine Lunch

VI - The Roman Salute

VII - 666 Deaths

VIII - Celestial Entertainment

IX - A Question for Pasquino

X - The Game

XI - Raping Virgins

XII - An Act of God

XIII - Convert or Die

XIV - A Wealthy Arabian Lady

XV - A Templar Secret

XVI - An Infernal Plan

XVII - The Necropolis

XVIII - Into The Ancient Crypt

XIX - The Secret Archives

XX - World King

XXI - An Amazing Contraption

XXII - A Cruel Entity

XXIII - 17 Symbols

XXIV - Gott Mit Uns

XXV - The Red Dragon

XXVI - Fear

XXVII - Greed

XXVIII - The Swiss Guard

XXIX - Church of Multiplication

XXX - Walking in Chains

XXXI - Saltimbocca alla Romana

EPILOGUE - The Letter

I - Coffee With a Stranger

PIAZZA NAVONA – ROME - 07:30

I find immense pleasure in starting my day on a positive note. Thus, I make every effort to ensure it begins smoothly. Rising early, I take a refreshing shower, dress up, and head to my beloved café in Rome's Piazza Navona. There, I indulge in a cup of coffee while marveling at Gian Lorenzo Bernini's exquisite Fountain of the Four Rivers, crafted in 1651. As I leave, I purposefully overlook the mailbox. It's one of those mornings when the sun is rising, the city is bustling with activity, and tourists are beginning to flock to the square.

As I sat there, savoring my coffee and a cigarette, a distinguished gentleman in his late fifties approached me and greeted me in fluent English.

Good morning, Alex. How are you today?

My ability to recognize people out of context isn't the greatest, so encountering someone outside of their usual setting often leaves me struggling to place them. I gazed at him, racking my brain to recall where we might have crossed paths.

He offered a warm smile and remarked, We've met many times before, but we've never formally been introduced. That's why you don't recognize me.

Well, that's a relief, I thought to myself, though he quickly added, Almost.

Almost what? I inquired, returning his smile.

A damn relief, he replied with a grin.

As my inner alarm bells began to ring, a surge of curiosity washed over me. Could this gentleman be an undercover policeman, keeping tabs on me? Besides a handful of unpaid parking tickets, I had a clean record. Or perhaps he had mistaken me for someone else? Clarifying this misunderstanding seemed imperative.

In my experience, trouble has a knack for seeking you out, regardless of your efforts to evade it. So, I opted for caution, adopting a courteous demeanor while aiming to glean more information from him.

Would you care to join me for a coffee? I proposed.

I'd love to, he accepted. I have a very interesting story to share.

That sounds delightful, I responded. Though I must admit, I'm short on coins but rich in time for a pleasant conversation.

That's all I ask, he replied gravely.

In what sense, sir? I inquired, intrigued by his seriousness.

Well, the number of coins in your pocket may prove irrelevant, your professed faith could be misguided, and while our conversation may be intriguing, it may not necessarily end pleasantly. As for time, it's often either insufficient or excessive, he remarked politely.

How true, I concurred. Are you a philosopher? Or perhaps a policeman? If so, how may I assist you?

He chuckled, assuring me, Rest assured, as I mentioned earlier, I'm simply here to share a compelling story. Pausing for effect, he added, My story, and perhaps yours.

Very well, I'm all ears, I responded.

Taking a sip of his coffee, he fixed me with an intense gaze and exclaimed, THIS WORLD IS MINE!

Congratulations, I replied dryly.

I am the creator, he declared.

Suppressing a laugh, I mused to myself, Ah, so that's what this is about. Well, you're in luck; I enjoy these discussions. With the day still young and time aplenty, I decided to indulge him and play along.

Maintaining a composed demeanor, I remarked, Indeed, that's quite intriguing. Though, in my humble opinion, the visual appeal is commendable, but the storyline leaves much to be desired.

He erupted in laughter before regaining his composure. You have no idea how accurate you are, he remarked, his tone turning serious.

As the café filled up, the familiar din of a bustling Roman square enveloped us. Observing our surroundings, he remarked, Doesn't it feel rather crowded and noisy here?

I nodded in agreement, adding, True, but that's part of what lends this city its charm.

Taking another sip of his coffee, he grinned, Indeed, but I have fond memories of this spot. Below us lies the remnants of Domitian's stadium, a relic of a bygone era that I hold dear.

He emitted a peculiar guttural sound, gestured with three fingers over his coffee, and remarked, I believe these folks have other engagements and will soon depart. Almost immediately, the crowd dispersed.

Surprised by the sudden exodus, I scanned the square, anticipating others to claim the vacated tables, as was customary. However, to my bewilderment, the seats remained unoccupied.

Turning back to the enigmatic stranger, I admitted, You seem acquainted with me, yet your name eludes me.

My name is unpronounceable to you, but some know me as Yaldabaoth, but you can call me Yale. he disclosed. I belong to a group of creators of worlds.

Intriguing, I responded. Are you akin to a foreign producer with a crew?

In a sense, but on a grander scale, he explained. We fashion worlds for our sustenance and pleasure, much like how you cultivate farms or hunt for your needs.

Perplexed, I inquired, So, you're a farmer or landowner?

In a manner of speaking, yes, he affirmed. Except my 'farm' is this world, and you are the livestock or game.

Assessing the situation, I sized up the man before me, confident that I could handle him if necessary. However, I didn't want to raise any alarms, so I played along, keeping the heavy crystal ashtray nearby.

To my surprise, he seemed to anticipate my thoughts and reassured me, Don't worry, you won't need that today. It would be futile anyway.

With a shrug, I lit a cigarette, attempting to lighten the mood. I'm trying to quit smoking, I quipped, swiftly changing the subject. This sounds intriguing. Are you suggesting you're gods?

A mischievous grin spread across his face as he confirmed, Precisely! The one and only.

Curiosity piqued, I probed further, asking if he frequently approached people with his story.

More or less, he replied. It adds spice to life. Though I once had a regrettable encounter with someone who didn't take it well.

Intrigued, I pressed for details about the past incident, prompting him to recount a dramatic confrontation that had spiraled out of control.

He caused such an uproar, he continued, his tone veering into darker territories, that I found myself losing favor among my chosen people. It was a precarious situation, one that demanded decisive action.

My curiosity piqued, I leaned in, eager to hear more of this intriguing tale. And what did you do? I prodded, my imagination running wild with the possibilities.

A wry smile played at the corners of his lips as he recounted his bold move. I had him flailed, he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of satisfaction, and then nailed to a cross. It seemed the only way to quell the chaos he had ignited.

I couldn't help but gasp at the sheer audacity of his actions, my mind reeling at the implications. And what happened next? I pressed, unable to contain my fascination with his tale of power and intrigue.

His eyes twinkled with a mix of mischief and triumph as he leaned back in his chair, clearly relishing the opportunity to share his conquest. Ah, but that, my friend, is a story for another time, he teased, leaving me hanging on the edge of my seat with anticipation.

I chuckled nervously, attempting to mask my growing unease with a casual gesture. Well, you needn't worry about stirring up trouble with me, I reassured him, though the sight of the ashtray suddenly seemed more like a makeshift weapon than a mere accessory.

I regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism, pondering his cryptic words. Surely, I ventured cautiously, there could have been a less drastic solution. Forty lashes, perhaps, to humiliate him in front of his followers, and then send him packing?

He paused, considering my suggestion with a furrowed brow before shaking his head decisively. No, he asserted, his tone unwavering, the crucifixion served its purpose, setting a precedent that would reverberate through the ages.

Reluctant to delve into theological debates with a stranger, I swiftly changed the subject, steering our conversation towards safer waters. I'm fascinated by your terraforming abilities, I remarked, eager to uncover more about his extraordinary skills.

His gaze held mine for a moment, as if weighing the wisdom of divulging further secrets. Finally, he relented, his voice tinged with a hint of pride as he delved into the intricacies of his craft. Creating worlds is no simple feat, he explained, his words infused with a sense of gravitas. Each one presents its own unique challenges, its own tests of endurance and ingenuity.

I couldn't help but marvel at the implications of his words, the notion of beings capable of shaping entire worlds sparking a sense of wonder within me. It sounds like you come from a highly advanced civilization, I remarked, seeking to unravel the mysteries that surrounded him.

A knowing smile graced his lips, though his response left much to be desired. You could say that, he replied enigmatically, sidestepping the heart of my inquiry. Sensing that he was deliberately withholding information, I opted to bide my time, content to let the secrets of his origins unravel in due course.

How exactly do you create worlds? I inquired, leaning forward with genuine curiosity.

With words, he replied, his voice carrying a weight of authority.

I couldn't help but chuckle at his cryptic response. You speak them into existence?

In a way, yes, he explained, his tone measured. It's more about sound and vibration.

Ah, so who's your foreman, Merlin? I quipped, hoping to lighten the mood.

He ignored my jest, instead quoting Nikola Tesla, a figure of reverence in his eyes. If you want to find the secrets of the universe, think in terms of energy, frequency, and vibration, he recited, his voice tinged with admiration.

I nodded thoughtfully, pondering the profound implications of Tesla's words. He was truly ahead of his time, I mused,