I had a number of ordinary dreams over the course of the next week or so. Nothing of the caliber of my first demon vision, just the usual claptrap that seems to be our mind's way of filing away new experiences and re-arranging older memory files.When I had stopped obsessing about my first vision and least expected it, another demon dream came into me. It started pretty much like most of my lost-in-a-big-building dreams. There I was, running up and down corridors and stairways, rushing from room to room, looking for I don't know what.
Eventually I found my way into a large conference room in what appeared to be a typical big city office building. One wall of the room was floor-to-ceiling glass. Sunlight flooded in almost horizontally as it wasn't very high in the morning sky. There was a number of smartly dressed people sitting around a large wood table which must have been very expensive indeed. They appeared to be in the middle of some kind of business presentation. An attractive woman stood at the head of the table, speaking as she pointed to symbols on a large chart which was projected on a screen behind her.
It was then that I realized it was a demon vision because sitting opposite me, slouching in his seat, was a plumpish man of about 70 who seemed to be the only person in the room aware that I was there, and he had that same strange faceted quality that Kasyade exhibited when I had first seen him. This older man said nothing, just stared at me as if I and not he had been the one who just materialized there and he was waiting for me to be complete. We sat without speaking for awhile, sipping coffee from exquisitely thin China cups.
He spoke when he was satisfied that I was fully corporeal. "Good morning, Angelo. I hope you don't mind if I call you Angelo?"
"Uh, no, that's fine." I waited for him to introduce himself. He reminded me an awful lot of Henry Kissinger. In fact, had he introduced himself as the Secretary, I would not have been surprised. He spoke like him, too, with that juicy accent. At least when he did speak. But he just sipped. Of course, he must be a demon, he didn't introduce himself. I suppose expecting manners from a demon is illogical. So I prompted as gently as I could, "And you are...?
"Shaddal," he bowed his eyes ever so slightly.
Hmm, I now suspected that demons, if indeed Shaddal was one, go by just one name. Shaddal was dressed in a very conservative but expensive dark grey business suit, white shirt and blue tie which reflected light like silk and had darker finger stains around the knot. I realized that I had no idea how or even if I was dressed, though this was a moot point since Shaddal didn't even seem to notice much less care.
Chuckling, he made a feeble attempt to apologize for how my last meeting ended. "After your last experience, I was beginning to think you might not show up today. Kasyade can be short-tempered at times. But I assure you, he would not have harmed you."
"Now you tell me," I tried to make light of my fear.
Shaddal laughed. He had an engaging smile and his well-worn laugh was somewhat infectious. I found myself liking him. But I couldn't figure out what in hell we were doing in this conference room. Seeing my look of confusion, Shaddal rose and beckoned me to follow him. "Come," he said, "Let me take you on a little tour."
I followed him from that first conference room into the long corridors of the large office building. As we walked, Shaddal told me, "I want you to see how we control the world, Angelo. The idea that humans control their own fate is mere illusion. Your leaders are puppets who strut and posture as if they have something to say about how things go. But we pull their strings and they jump. We use humans so the rest of you won't suspect we are the puppet masters."
Well, they had me fooled, I mused. I always thought the world's leaders were the demons.
We entered another large conference room and stood just inside the doors at the back of the room. Shaddal whispered, "Listen to this. The fellow on your right is one of us."
"A demon?"
"A minion of Lord Satan, Angelo," corrected me.
"And the other two?"
"These are your people, Angelo. See how quickly they are ready to accept anything my demon offers." He sounded somehow delighted.
Sitting across from the demon were two seemingly normal, or perhaps I should say mortal people. A man and a women. And whether or not they were aware that they were doing the work of Satan will always be something of a mystery to me. They were well-dressed and I took them to be executives of a large pharmaceutical corporation. They apparently could not see Shaddal or me.
The demon fellow was instructing the humans on how they could convince an ever-expanding number of consumers that they had some kind of medical condition which required their new products to control. The medical establishment would act as co-conspirators in executing this strategy. First the pharmaceutical company would advertise the medication to the public in such a way that it would convince otherwise healthy people they would benefit from the medication. This would impel patients to ask their doctors for the medications.
The medical profession, for pure profit, would convince existing patients they needed to be on the pharmaceutical company's new products. This two-pronged attack would virtually guarantee ever-growing income and profits for the industry. The demon used phrases like "casting a wide net," and "consumers are growing more and more paranoid about their health."
There was a certain amount of cynical laughter among the three of them, which in turn made Shaddal chuckle. Especially when the two humans described how their corporation was funding clinical tests to show how the "safe" parameters of certain vital signs could be lowered, then using crafty pr campaigns, those who weren't actually at risk of anything would be convinced to get on the new medications. They discussed what percentage of revenue should be "invested" in the medical establishment. The woman read numbers from a plan. The dollar amounts were staggering.
The demon fellow made a comment about how profits will even exceed those of the tobacco industry which for the previous three centuries he had directed.
Shaddal rubbed the palms of his hands together with excitement. He gestured for me to follow him. "Come, come, my boy," he chattered as he led me into another chamber. In this one, the subject was the energy industry. I saw and heard another demon plotting with three humans to squeeze the world's population for every dollar they could without causing a revolution. Meanwhile, any attempt to find better sources of energy which might negatively impact the power and profit of their cabal would be discouraged "with prejudice." The demon instructed that no person, no leader, no organization, no country was exempt.
In the next chamber, a demon connived with a major figure in the field of education to bilk taxpayers out of even more billions without ever having to improve the performance of its bureaucracy and at the same time indoctrinate young students in the ways of Shaddal's people. "An ignorant youngster," Shaddal winked at me, "Is an easy target for us."
In the next chamber, leaders of the food industries conspired with another of Shaddal's demons to enslave compulsive consumers. They laughed at photographs of consumers who were overweight to the point these poor souls were forced to give up all pretense of being human. Today 99.9% of the human race can no longer sustain itself without food and other basic products provided by faceless, nationless, soulless corporations. Satan's minions have successfully turned the human race into slaves, more and more dependent upon a few major suppliers for survival. Under the spell of these demons, our leaders justify all this under the rubric of capitalism, free enterprise, and progress.
In another chamber a demon schemed with leaders in the field of philanthropy.
In the next chamber it was the investment industry which plotted.
In the next the entertainment industry created new ways to sink lower into the abyss. In the next a demon instructed leaders of the "progressive" movement, laying out a surreptitious ten year agenda.
When Shaddal was satisfied that I had got the point of his tour, he turned to me and said, "Here, not on the battlefield, is where we do our most important work, my boy. There are many more meetings like these, but I see no point in belaboring the point... agreed?" I nodded.
"How often do you have these meetings?" I asked.
"Not as often as you would expect," Shaddal snickered, "Once we indoctrinate your fellow humans into our ways, they need little further directing. They become our converts and, being human, they catch on quickly. They know just what to do. Your people are very, very good when it comes to greed, lust, arrogance and manipulating their own kind. They are masters at hiding their work, and on those few occasions when they might be exposed, they are creative at blaming it on others. It's truly a joy watching your people." Shaddal grinned from ear to pointy ear.
I followed Shaddal back to the first conference room. We took our seats at the far end of the long table. The original presentation was still going on. The speaker was describing a world political map showing how countries would line up according to the group's plan. I asked Shaddal, "Am I supposed to be paying attention to this?" I gestured toward the woman at the head of the table.
"Her?" Shaddal waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "No, no. They don't even know we are here. They can't see us, believe me. It's just you and I, my boy." He glanced at his watch. "Now then, shall we get on with today's interview? I'm afraid our time is limited. How far did you and Kassy - I call him Kassy, it's a term of endearment you know - how far did you two get?"
"Quite a ways, quite a ways." Then, on a whim, I told Shaddal, "While I was interviewing Kasyade, from time to time I got glimpses of his non-human aspect. Can I assume you and all your kind don't look human unless you want to?"
"You can," Shaddal nodded.
"Can I impose on you, would you assume your other form... just for awhile? I'm sure those who read my story will be fascinated by your kind."
Shaddal laughed a little, then shrugged and said, "Why not." As I watched, the facets of his image became more obvious, then began to glimmer as if each facet was spinning or changing somehow. When the glimmering stopped, most of Shaddal's body was covered with a heavy coat of white hair. He had large pointed ears, horns, a tail, and the legs and cloven hooves of a goat! But he still had the same face. Shaddal was a satyr.
"My God," my eyes went visibly wider, "You're a..."
Shaddal laughed louder this time, or was it a bleat? "What did you expect - some kind of ogre?"
"Did you always look, um...?"
"This handsome?" Shaddal definitely bleated this time. "I was born this way. As a result of the Anunnaki geneticists' experiments in cross-breeding. No offense, my boy, but I so much prefer this, my natural form to my human form. Much less cumbersome. All those clothes, you know."
"Yes, yes. I can imagine." But then there was that strong animal smell that suddenly filled the room.
"Shall we get on with it now... my time is somewhat limited."