Today was an important day.
The incel risk model had finally flagged it’s highest risk candidate, Albert Melvinson, for in-person surveillance. And the task was assigned to John Merckenheimer.
One may ask why in-person surveillance is ever necessary, considering most everything about everyone is digitally tracked and surveilled. This applied doubly to Albert, whose real life actions disclosed little, and lived mostly through his browser history.
Well, there is one type of data that no computer or model has digital access to: aura.
The CIA began conducting research into non-physical phenomena, like aura, in the 50s. Their goal was to invent psychic technologies that could help them spy on the Russians. A few decades later, they declared this psychic technology program a failure, and told the public it had been shuttered. But this was a lie.
The CIA psychic technology had astounding results, and the CIA still relies on psychic powers for many of their activities. For example, they use remote viewing and astral projection for espionage. Black magick and divination to tip the scales of global conflict. And aura reading to supplement normal surveillance.
The CIA first tried to educate special agents in the art of aura reading via a course administered by the CIA Occult Research Division.
The instructor selected for the course was the daughter of the CIA Espionage Director: Lightfoot Starfire (real name, Mildred Barton).
It was clear from the get-go that nepotism played a heavy hand in this appointment. First, Lightfoot refused to take a drug test, and somehow managed medical exemptions for both marijuana and psilocybin.
And she was terribly unprofessional. She showed up to each class utterly unprepared, and rather than be ashamed at her lack of care, Lightfoot believed it was right to not prepare. Instead of following course notes or a syllabus, Lightfoot would “tune in to Source” at the beginning of every lesson, and “feel” her way through each day, as a room full of suited and spectacled flat faced agents sat cross-legged on the floor watching her rock side to side in her Shakti Boho Maxi Dress sighing profusely, one hand over her chest and one over her uterus.
As far as actual psychic ability, Lightfoot had no consistency in her readings, and provided dubious justifications for her mistakes.
For example, if she misread six auras in a row, she might say: the full moon in Aquarius is creating cosmic auricular interference.
Or if she factually contradicted herself, she might say: You’re taking me too literally! Get into your right brain and stop overthinking!
Lightfoot was also quite moody. She once cancelled class at the last minute saying that her “spirit guides had told her she needed to rest for the day”. When asked by HR to produce a medical note from these “spirit guides”, Lightfoot scoffed and threatened to quit.
She also often complained of the fluorescent lighting and EMF radiation in the CIA office, saying it attracted negative energy which impeded her psychic abilities.
Three weeks into the course, the CIA agents were so frustrated by her sensitivity, and disillusioned about her claims, that they figured they had to act.
And so they hatched a brilliant plan.
First, the agents kidnapped and drugged Lightfoot Starfire. This part was easy, even routine. Then, they scanned and imaged her brain to reverse engineer the neuro-scientific basis for her alleged psychic powers, if any existed.
The plan went slightly awry as the sedative dose was too low. Lightfoot woke up during the operation and found herself strapped to an operating table in a dark room, with hundreds of electrodes taped to her head, surrounded by creepy men in black sunglasses. At first she was terrified, and understandably so. But the agents placated her by introducing themselves as “Venusian star beings who were upgrading her consciousness from an earthly vibration to a galactic one.” They then offered her more IV anesthesia and told her it was Soma, a psychedelic elixir from their planet. She happily accepted it with a namaste.
The agents were not expecting much from the brain scan, except possibly 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 same astral organs were absent in the CIA agents, all others who could not perceive psychic phenomena.
Once the discovery was established, the agents did what any warm blooded American scientist would do. They marshaled it into a gadget.
The agents discovered that they could 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 given target with 99% accuracy, and looked no different than the government-standard black sunglasses. They could also perceive any 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.
What he found was that 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 then 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 that he passed. On contact these tentacles immediately recoiled, as if touching fire, and his aura would then violently remorph. 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 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 switched from porn to calligraphy, the demons paced around his living room anxiously awaiting a free moment to inject lustful desires back into his mind.
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’s eyes became wet and he quickly left the apartment.
Note:
Some readers might be concerned regarding the fate of Lightfoot Starfire.
I hope they will be comforted to know that Lightfoot is alive and well. After the procedure, the CIA agents left Lightfoot outside of a juice shop in Crown Heights. She suffered no lasting harm and actually ended up starting a career as a “Venusian channel”, where she posted TikToks on her alien abduction and upgraded galactic consciousness, amassing a small but dedicated following.