Today was an important day. The incel team AI model had finally assigned John Merckenheimer to in-person surveillance of his highest risk candidate: Albert Melvinson.
One may ask why in-person surveillance was necessary when almost everything about us is digitally tracked and surveilled. Especially for someone like Albert, who lived most of his life on his laptop.
Well, the AI model did have rich stores of multimodal data. But there was one modality it was blind to: aura.
The CIA had been conducting research into non-physical phenomena like aura since the 50s. Their public statement had declared this program a failure. But privately, everyone knew it wasn’t.
The CIA relies on psychic powers for many of their activities. They use remote viewing and astral projection for espionage. They use black magick and summon powerful deities to tip the scales of global conflict. And they use aura reading for all of their surveillance.
The CIA initially tried to educate certain agents in the art of aura reading through a course run by the CIA’s Occult Research Division.
The instructor for the course was the daughter of the CIA Espionage Director. Her name was Lightfoot Starfire (real name, Mildred Barton).
It was not hard for anyone to see that there was nepotism involved in this staffing decision. Lightfoot had no consistency in her readings and provided dubious justifications for mistakes.
For example: The full moon in Aquarius is adding noise to my readings.
Or: You can’t take what I said too literally! Get into your right brain. Don’t think too much.
Lightfoot was also moody. She cancelled class at the last minute saying she had “tuned in” and her “spirit guides told her she needed to rest for the day”. She said the fluorescent lighting and EMF radiation in the CIA office gave her headaches which impeded her psychic abilities. And she couldn’t go the full four hours of teaching without frequent snack breaks.
Dealing with her was a frustrating experience for the CIA agents, who were not at all used to someone with her constitution.
And so, they hatched a brilliant plan.
The agents kidnapped and drugged Lightfoot Starfire, then scanned and imaged her brain to reverse engineer the neuroscientific basis for her alleged psychic powers.
The plan went slightly awry as the sedative dose was too low. Lightfoot woke up during the operation, strapped to an operating table in a dark room, hundreds of electrodes taped to her head, and surrounded by creepy men in black sunglasses. At first she was irate-- understandably so. But the agents placated her by introducing themselves as “Venusian star beings upgrading her consciousness from an earthly vibration to a galactic vibration.” Then they offered her more IV anesthesia and told her it was DMT, which she happily accepted with a namaste gesture.
After meeting Lightfoot in person, the agents were not expecting much from the brain scan, other than maybe an enlarged amygdala and damaged prefrontal cortex.
Shockingly, however, not only was Lightfoot’s brain in reasonably healthy shape, but it exhibited certain regions that were highly unique.
After intense study of Lightfoot’s brain scans alongside hermetical texts, the Occult Research Division identified these regions to be what esotericists referred to as “astral organs”, or the parts of the brain developed in spiritual initiates that enable them to perceive non-physical realities, like auras. These astral organs were absent in those who could not read auras, or see psychic phenomena.
Once the discovery was established, the agents did what any warm blooded American scientist would do. They turned it into a device.
The agents were able to replicate the bio-electric patterns of this aura reading brain region and the surrounding sensory context into an incredible device they called the Aura Goggles. The Aura Goggles perceived the aura of any target with 99% accuracy, and looked no different than the government-standard black sunglasses. It could also perceive attached entities and demonic possessions.
And it was those Aura Goggles, a gift from the CIA to the NSA, that John wore as he trailed Albert down 34th Street.
Albert’s aura made John’s stomach turn. He had never seen anything like it. He predicted something that was weak and transparent, maybe a pale grey or blue. But that’s not what he found.
Albert’s aura was highly irregular. It was a thick dark black highlighted with swirling reds and blues. And it did not form a steady egg around him like a normal aura. Instead, it was constantly morphing, splitting open and suturing violently, like a water bed being stabbed and jumped on. Blood red astral tentacles shot out of Albert’s peripheral vision and touched the breasts of women he passed, then immediately recoiled, as if touching fire, and his aura would violently remorph again. Sometimes the women would look at him right as the tentacle touched them, and dark black and purple lines tangled in tumble-weed shapes would circle Albert’s head as he continued his stooped walk home.
When Albert got home, John waited for the the surveillance stream from Albert’s laptop to reach his surveillance monitor. Once John saw that Albert had a YouTube video on, something about calligraphy, and that he had headphones in and was in his bedroom (John could read all this from Albert’s laptop webcam), John used his NSA universal key fob and slipped into Albert’s apartment to get a reading of the space.
Albert always left the lights off, which made things easy for John. And anyway, being seen was no issue-- John could just knock Albert out with a tranquilizing spray, and drug him with an amnesiac to wipe his memory. It was actually much easier to get the data that way-- sneaking around was quite difficult.
But John was a man of traditional values. He tried to bring a craftsman mindset into his work, always favoring the more elegant and skillful option.
Albert’s apartment also had a dark grey aura, and there seemed to be various spirits that haunted his unit. There were demons of lust, which had ravenous appetites and ugly, distorted faces. They had huge pot bellies but skinny limbs, eating and eating and eating but never digesting. John intuited that these demons were once attracted to Albert’s porn usage, using him as a conduit for their own desires. But now that Albert had mysteriously switched from porn to calligraphy, the demons paced around his living room antsily awaiting a free moment to inject lustful desires into his mind again.
Behind Albert’s desk chair, John spotted three vampiric beings who seemed to be sucking in Albert’s dark grey aura as if it were syrup through a straw.
And along with these vampiric beings John saw an entity residing in Albert’s stomach that looked like a crazed bald man with a pointed goatee and mustache and a tongue sticking out, increasingly inflamed with the need to do calligraphy.
In the midst of all this chaos was a tiny being of light, which John identified as Albert’s guardian angel. Wearied, thin, and hunched over, it tried to shoo away these larger demons like annoying mosquitos, but was much too meek to accomplish this.
John took in the full sight. He had a (gentle, low-grade, non-destabilizing) amazement at how much was going on in what seemed initially like a dull scene: a man alone on his laptop in the dark, practicing his handwriting.
As John took in the full sight of the spiritual scene, Albert’s guardian angel stopped shooing away the other entities and turned to John. The thin, wearied, angel looked into John’s eyes and they gazed at each other sternly. Surprisingly, despite the angels difficult situation, there was nothing beseeching in his gaze. Then the angel turned his head away, back towards the vampires, and as he did this, a pink colored tendril from Albert’s heart reached out and touched John’s.
John felt his eyes become wet and quickly left the apartment.
Note:
Some readers might be worried about the fate of Lightfoot Starfire.
I hope they will be pleased to know that Lightfoot is alive and well. After the procedure, the CIA agents left Lightfoot outside of a juice shop in Crown Heights to let her sort out what had happened on her own.
Lightfoot suffered no lasting harm and actually ended up launching a short-lived career as a “Venusian channel”, where she discussed her alien abduction and upgraded consciousness on TikTok, amassing a small but dedicated following.