Sean Sellers: Satanist (Conclusion)

I began smoking, taking speed, sniffing rush, and toking joints at school. After punching holes in the bathroom wall of a teen club called Skully’s, I got a job there as a bouncer. Friday and Saturday nights were spent drinking, getting high and partying with the ‘Rockies-the people who attended the Rocky Honor Picture Show-who frequented Skully’s after the movie. With live teenage bands rocking out the sound of ‘Breaking the Chains,” I would sit wearing black tank top, camouflage fatigues, high tops, bandanas, and eye liner, drinking beer from plastic cups, and smoking cigarettes while my new girlfriend, Angel, would eye me from across the table wearing a black and red spandex unitard, black knee-high boots, my white vest and black hat, and a choke collar and dog leash from her neck. We danced, borrowed back seats from our friends before I got my pickup, and slept together. We would get high, talk about life, and remain the center of attention at Skully’s.

Satanism had become our lifestyle. lt was no longer something bragged about, or showed off. It was serious to us and the center of our lives. I continued to study and perform nightly rituals taking more and more speed to keep going. The Elimination had disbanded, leaving me to pursue my own, more mature, practices, including a worship of the dead, again in combination with Ninjutsu, as I searched for true enlightenment And here I was. I wasn’t happy. The blood, drugs, sex, hate, all of it had become boring. But I knew no other way. I had searched everywhere and come up empty. My life stunk. I was angry with my parents. I continually thought about suicide. I just wanted out.

I sat there in my pickup wishing I had either the guts to blow my brains out, or for a way to find a new world and leave everything behind. I had been up for three days. I was out of speed. Tonight I would get some sleep. I drove home, did some homework, performed a ritual, and slept. My next clear memory is a jail cell two days later. I had taken my father’s .44 revolver and shot both my parents in the head as they slept. In a year, the memories of that night would haunt me. I had stood in front of my mothers convulsing body watching blood pour from a hole in her face, and laughed a hideous giggle. I had felt relieved, as if the world’s oppression had been lifted from my shoulders. But for now, all I knew was that my life was destroyed. I had given Satan everything, and now I sat in a jail cell without a family. I no longer wanted to be a Satanist, and as I renounced Satan in my mind, and old familiar voice spoke with me. Suicide. I would kill myself. Only my genuine love for Angel prevented me. Two days later a man came to the cell next to mine. He gave me a Bible and I opened it to read without knowing why. I had mutilated Bibles, burned them, urinated on them, poured blood on them, but now for the first time I read one- without any ulterior motives I read just because something seemed to say to me ‘Search.’ As I opened the paperback book and read from Psalms, an overwhelming sense of guilt fell upon me. I had been wrong. Satan had lied to me. It was God, not Satan, who only loved me.

I had cursed and cussed God. I had knelt at an altar of Satan covered in blood, full of hate toward the Creator. And still, my God loved me. I felt a new presence wanting to descend on me, crying for me to let it in. On my knees I fell and prayed really for the first time. ‘Lord, here I am again. If you will take me back I will serve you.” God touched me, honoring that prayer, and I began to cry. I cried for two hours not caring who saw me. And when l slept, it was the first peaceful night’s sleep I’d had in a year and a half. I awoke knowing everything would be okay. I had no idea what would happen. I didn’t care. It didn’t matter, because in that one moment all things unspoken I had searched for were found in my Jesus. I had been forgiven and given an incomprehensible peace. At that moment, I knew true love and realized all I had sought all along was only this, and finally I was free.

Satan gave me Death Row, but I refuse acceptance of all I received from the Devil. God has given me dreams and love and purpose. Satan took my family, but God has restored and given me a new one. I speak from experience.

Sean Sellers:Satanist Page One

Sean Sellers:Satanist Page Two

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Why Is Satanism Practiced By Our Leaders (Parts 1-3)

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