2″ (Two Inches)


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Authors Note:

This novel is based on actual events that happened to me.

I never believed in haunted houses; until I owned one, I was a real-estate agent who bought a house the owner had died in. It was cheap, and run down, and needed repairs so I figured that I could do most of them myself, and then flip the house later for a quick profit.

One night I was working in the house alone, when the lights suddenly went out. I took my flashlight and went downstairs to the breaker box to reset the switch. Suddenly my flashlight dimmed like all the juice had been sucked out of the batteries, and then died completely. These were new batteries that I had just put in.

I fumbled with the switches in the dark, looking for the main breaker. It was completely black, midnight with no moon so I couldn’t see anything, but I “detected” movement in that ocean of darkness that was the basement, and it was completely unexpected.

I was so scared that my soul tried to jump out of my body like I read about people describing an out of body experience when they died on the operating table or at the scene of an accident before they were brought back.

I assume what I experienced was similar to that. I was so scared that my soul tried to jump out of my body to escape the it, but it happened so fast that I didn’t have time to react, like stepping on a tact, It was a spiritual reflex motion, something you realize only after the fact because you don’t have time to think about it first. After that I quit real-estate because I didn’t want to sell houses anymore.

***Warning do not read this novel alone!!! ***









2″ (Two Inches) Copyrighted by Jason Gabriel Kondrath

Evil’s Never Been So Close

Chapter 1: Poor Richard

Richard was a part-time criminal with a full-time drug habit, and had been in and out of prison because of it, since he was a juvenile.

He had just completed one year served, on a two-year sentence for dealing to an undercover narcotics officer.

His parents had money, and access to expensive attorneys, but with Richards obsessive drug habit, it was difficult for even them to keep him out of trouble.

It was tragic because Richard had potential, very sensitive, and highly intelligent. He was heavy into philosophy, the arts, and music (especially the guitar), which he had started to play in the fourth grade.

His parents enrolled him for lessons at the local music store because they thought that it might be a good way for him to express himself and give him a positive outlet.

And he kept up with it, now he was quite good. He even joined a band in high-school. And playing guitar in a band gave Richard the opportunity at an otherwise unobtainable social life.

It would surprise many of his “rocker” friends, to know that when he was home (usually grounded), he would watch documentaries, like those featured on the History Channel. This was something he would never do if his friends were over. Or admit too if he was caught.

Richard had two personalities, not a split personality. One public and one private. And despite his appearance of ripped jeans, black T-shirts, and converse shoes, there was much more to him than his “I don’t give a fuck about nothing, attitude, because he did.

In fact, he felt more, not less, that the average teen, and he contemplated things much more deeply, and he was highly intelligent, if not highly motivated.

One weekend Richard caught an episode of Allister Crowley, the wickedest man who ever lived, on the History Channel which was quite a title considering that Adolf Hitler was also alive at the same time, and responsible for the extermination of six million Jews.

After that episode, Richard became fascinated with Crowley. The episode was ambiguous at best, superficial, sterile, and glossed over, but Richard started doing his own research on his personal computer (with enhanced internet speed, not common at that time).

No one could have guessed, but the computer would surpass even the television itself in popularity and become the most popular household item for the next fifty years.

Crowley was a shadowy figure to say the least, but his practice into Satanism and Black Magic was more about power, than evil done, for evil sake.

Ironically, Richard and Crowley had several things in common, one of which, they both came from a family with money. Two, they both lost their father at an early age. And three they were both raised Catholic, which they hated.


Richard could appreciate the hypocrisy that Crowley exposed in the Catholic, the most superficial, it not the most practiced of all religions.

And paled by comparison to the Amish, who actually practiced their faith, by living it.

Their congregation was more of an extended family, and everyone helped the other to survive, there was no “weakest link,” in the Amish Community. A there was a lot to be said for that.

Catholics by contrast had priests who molested and raped Alter Boys, and Girls, and when exposed were protected by the church, not punished.

Then those priests were transferred to other parishes to avoid the public outcry, legal prosecution, bad publicity, and expensive settlements. The families were either payed off, discredited, or ostracized.

Crowley also argued that Free-Will itself, was an illusion, because no one had a choice about existence itself, and that life was forced upon us. And so were our circumstances.

Finally if you wanted an actual glimpse of “Free Will” than let man Do What Thy Wilt, without the threat of punishment, as the nature of man was inherently wicked.

There was a theory, and it was the basis of Satanism, something that originated long before Crowley, that there was a hole in the soul of every sentient being, an empty pit, a void. A microscopic black-hole.

Some could recognize it, others could not. But the effects of the void were there in either case. And many tried to fill this void with Alcohol, Food, Gossip, News, Movies, Politics, Sex, Television, Technology, Violence, and War, but these were all merely distractions.

Boredom was the worst, boredom led you to the conclusion that life itself had no purpose. There was no reason for existence (except suffering), and it was the avoidance of this realization of “no-purposefulness” that was the reason man had created everything else.

Otherwise he would reach that inevitable conclusion that led to self-destruction: suicide or insanity.

So, people avoided that truth at all costs. They tried to fill that void because the truth was too disturbing.

But it was this truth that was also the underlying reason for all the other problems that plagued the human condition since its inception.

A Catch 22, or no-win situation, if you will.

Like Crowley, Richard had an intelligent sensitivity, but a cynical disposition. And he was always haunted by one question.


Even as a youth in church Richard wondered why?

Why, if God truly loved man, would he set him apart from Heaven and into the such a horrible world where he was destined to fail in the first place?

He didn’t love the Devil, but he had Sympathy for the Devil. God was the one responsible, he created man, his plight, and the predicimate, not the Devil, the bible implies, the Devil cannot create, only destroy.

And what was his enemies, enemy?

Even the Buddhists, most humane of any religions said, “Life was Suffering, way before the Satanists like Allister Crowley popularized it.

Finally, Richard, like Crowley, considered himself superior to the rest of the human race, despite his short-comings. It wasn’t anything that he had or did, but rather something innate. Something he was born with.

A sociopath with a Conscious?

Richard was always looking for an edge. Something to give him an advantage over everybody else, some secret power or knowledge that nobody else knew or had that would make him seem or be superior.

Certainly more than just human.

His father was a doctor, and his mother a successful business woman in her own right, who had gone to school but never opened her own restaurant because she got pregnant with Richard instead.

David, his father worked all the time, and Ella his mother was alone because of it, when Richard wasn’t at school, he was out with his friends, and as he got older he seemed to need her less and less.

In fact, Richard seemed never to be home. And when he had to be, he was very good at disappearing.

When he was forced to stay home, Richard would usually have his dinner up in his room, while his parents were fighting, practicing his guitar lessons for the week, and secretly researching Satanism and the black arts on his computer with 128k Internet connection.

It was just easier to avoid small talk, if he wasn’t there to begin with, this would just lead to other questions, what Richard considered an interrogation.

His father should have been a cop, not a doctor. When he nor his father were at home, Ella was alone and constantly reminded of it.

She knew something was wrong, but she didn’t know what it was. Doctor Poor had been having an affair with a very attractive nurse half his age.

Ella wanted her husband home more, and she even threaten to start her own catering business again. She needed to distract herself from her marital problems, because being alone all the time was causing her to drink.

When he called her bluff what choice did she have but to go thru with it.

With both of his parents gone, it made it easier for Richard to stay out of sight. And for a lot time everything was very quiet but then everything changed,
Richard mysteriously had a penchant for being at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

And then one day both his parents were called into school when it was discovered that Richard was using drugs, he was high as a kite and only in the ninth grade.

Both of his parents were so distraught, they turned red from embarrassed and neither could look the principal, a very sympathetic man, whose own son committed suicide, ten years earlier, in the eye.

And David, his father silently started crying on the ride home. Richard wasn’t prepared for that, he didn’t know what was worse, that, or his subsequent punishment.

At home he ordered Richard up to his room, and both parents followed him up the stairs, but David stopped his wife short, and told her to wait outside while he took off his belt.

Then he shut the door and locked it. With Ella outside the door, she would not be able to see anything, but she could hear the screaming.

She pounded on the locked door, until her wrists were sprained. Richard couldn’t return to school for almost two weeks, and he had never been suspended.

His father seriously considered Military School, but his mother begged him not to. She tearfully blamed herself for being a “bad-mother.”

The guitar was a bad idea, It was the influence of his friends and the music he listened to, they were to blame instead.

His friends were no longer allowed in the house. All his Cd’s were thrown out, and they went thru his room looking for drugs, or any related paraphernalia, and they threw everything out including the expensive special mail-order rock posters that covered his walls.

Richard never hid drugs in the house again, or even buried them outside. He didn’t have any books on Black Magic, or Devil Worshiping lying around either, because he had accessed much of everything from the still very primitive internet,(limited as it was), and the information he obtained was well hidden.

Then the following year there was another incident. Now the reputation of his drug use was growing, and his father feared even his practice may be tarnished by his son’s reputation.

That was serious. His mother begged her husband to get him treatment instead of punishing him again. Richard was their only child, and after she bore him there were complications, so she couldn’t have any more children.

David felt guilty and even somewhat responsible for that, even thou obstetrics was not his specialty, nor had he been the delivering doctor, that was against the hospitals policy.


“A cry for help?” David Poor mused, unlikely.

He was no fool. But in the end, he gave in to his wife, he was after all, an educated man. And he believed in the system.

Richard was sent to a private hospital during his summer vacation that followed, and one that specialized in substance abuse.

They clinic had an excellent reputation, they were a private hospital, very expensive, and dedicated, and they sincerely wanted to help Richard, and they did.

Now Richard had an even bigger network of drug contacts, and access to pharmaceutical grade medication, which was the best. When combined with alcohol or other drugs was the effect was even more intense.

The doctors suggested several popular and well-known, medications to help him.

There was a brief period when Richard only took his prescribed medication and as directed. But when he did, he didn’t feel depression, he didn’t feel anything. Not even human, and worse than that, the medication affected him in unexpected ways.

It flipped his depression to anger and gave him unpredictable and sometimes violent mood-swings. He even had unexpected outbursts and something that he never had before.

There was the other reason Richard continued to practice Black Magic, he wanted to cure his debilitating depression other than with medication, because the treatment was as bad as the illness.

He was just trying to cure himself from the Clinical Depression that the Medication had failed to do. And he wanted to do it himself.

As in Physician heal thyself.

That’s was why he started using street drugs in the first place, to feel better. He was simple self-medicating right from the start.

Now Richard kept his black magic practice a secret from everybody, but he still looked like a guy who was hiding something. People often misread that as guilt.

Richard had the luxury of feeling sorry for himself because he had a very comfortable upbringing provided by his professional parents.

But he still had a penchant for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Eventually even his friends thought he was cursed, because something just didn’t feel right whenever it happened.

Even Richard couldn’t deny it, it was something that always seemed to blind-side him, something that always came out of nowhere, and nothing he could do to prevent it.

Richard’s father was a military man, an officer. And he wanted Richard to follow in his footsteps. Instead he had grown up to be the complete opposite. He let his hair grow long, dress sloppy, and developed a slacker disposition.

Richard the rebel, did not fit into his father’s military mold. But the Army would change all that.

Richard on the contrary already decided that he would never join the Military as he had already made up his mind how the Military (and the rest of the world for that matter), really worked. He just hadn’t shared that wisdom with his father yet.

Whatever his father thought the Military was Richard saw it as a tool for the Globalist who started wars all over the world and then sold weapons to both sides and all at the tax-payers expense.

To date we were in the longest war in the history of the world one designed to never end.

Why start and stop a war every twenty year when it was so much easier (and cheaper) to perpetuate an existing one?

War was just another safe-guard to keep the people who were in power; in power.

The timing of events that happened next could not have been worse if they had been prescribed. Doctor Poor who was a Captain in the Army soon received word that would be returning to active duty.

Now that they had exhausted the reserves, and had even reinstated the Draft.

Dr. David Poor had gone to medical school on a G.I Bill, with the stipulation of reassignment and now the Military was calling in that debt.

Doctor David Poor, who had been stationed near the front line in Iran, less than six months, was operating in a Medical Compound, that was overrun by Jihadists, less commonly known as religious terrorists, when one of the rebels ran into the operating room with a bomb strapped to his chest and jumped on top of the patient, Doctor Poor was operating on, just before it exploded.

Dr. Poor and the rest of his medical team were killed instantly. Richard found out when he was still in school that day, he was taking a math test when he got the announcement over the intercom.

“Richard Poor to the Office Please,
“Richard Poor to the Office.”

The Principals secretary had that undertone of doom in her voice, as she requested him over the loud-speaker.

Richard sat in the back so everyone in class could turn around to look at him before he collected his books and walked up the aisle to leave.

He knew something terrible had happened, but what?

“Lucky,” his scumbag-friends “Gator” so named because he had a full set of braces that looked horrible, said as he passed by.

Gator was apparently referring to getting out of taking the math test in progress, one that Richard had already aced, and gator already failed. He placed in face down on the teacher’s desk.

The teacher Mr. Lesko, like Richard, and said, “Don’t worry Rich, I’ll only grade you on what you had time to do.”

Thank you Richard whispered politely, so the other students wouldn’t hear him. He did have a bad reputation to protect.

In the hallway, when he was alone, Richard thought to himself, what the worst possible thing is you could think of, and whatever that was, that would be it.

His father dying of course.

While he was walking down the empty hallway he stopped at the hall adjunct. He could turn left or right, and for a moment he wanted to run in the opposite direction, the one that led away from the principal’s office. Maybe if he did, he could change the outcome.

Whatever that outcome was.

But subconsciously he knew, His father’s death!!!

Just run out the side door of the school, he thought to himself. Run home to his mother. She would be waiting for him at home, and he could forget whatever was waiting for him at the office.

It wouldn’t exist if he did.

And deal with that another tomorrow, or maybe the next. Or maybe Never.

But of course, he did go to the office, because that’s where his mother was waiting for him, and not at home.

And just before he opened the door, he saw her thru the small rectangular window, that was crisscrossed with thin wire mesh for some unknown reason.

She studied her, she had been crying, his worse thought had been confirmed. He waited for what seemed like an eternity before he twisted the knob.

He took a deep breath, he knew he had to be strong for his mom, and after he walked in both his mother and aunt were waiting for him, and they burst into tears simultaneously.

He tried not to cry but he could not stop himself to see his mother in such grief was horrible and overwhelming. She became near hysterical shortly afterward, as she tried to explain what happened.

It was easy to blame his father’s death for his progressive substance abuse but everyone who knew Richard, knew that he was already into drugs, way before his family’s tragedy. And his father’s death was simply the nail in the coffin. No pun intended.

After his father’s, Death, his drug abuse become more severe, as drug addiction is a progressive disease. Even if his father had lived, there were many who doubted that he could have prevented Richard from being an addict.

Many people who weren’t his friend, did not have any pity for him, and thought of him as an embarrassment to his family. The black sheep.

Before the funeral, Richard cut his hair, bought a suit, and wrote a Eulogy that he had written himself; and it rivaled that of the Preacher, his father would have been proud of him in Death, if not in Life.

Richard figured that all his father ever saw in him was the worst, Richard never had a chance to show him the best. Now he had lost that chance forever. And that too was a tragedy.

After he graduated High-School, Richard joined some of the Satanic Underground Meetings, but he found most members, if not all, were really depraved. lost, desperate, mentally ill misfits, with no discipline, and not true believers of the faith.

He was very disappointed and continued his studies on his own. Richard himself never sacrificed animals, killed babies or ran around naked in the woods, in fact, he didn’t even like to go hunting with his dad, who kept a loaded rifle in his bedroom closet.

He was more into the under-lying principals behind Satanism, Black Magic, and Witchcraft. If it worked, why did it work?

Richard was into the power behind the evil. Evil just seemed to be a catalyst that seemed to bring results, faster than ordinary prayers, with better results.

But he did not stop with Satanism, he studied the Talmud, and many other sacred teachings from every religion from all faiths, all over the world.

He was a technical person, maybe he even fancied himself to be the next Allister Crowley.

But the results were always the same. And it got so bad that many of his old friends even avoided him, and said he was cursed.

He would get in trouble easily three times as often as anybody else doing the same thing. After a series of consistent minor infractions, one weekend was the straw that broke the camel’s back, Ricard had been arrested in a raid for substance abuse.

A very attractive female who worked as an undercover narcotics officer, had infiltrated the group for months.

Attractive women were always welcome, and trusted much more so than their male counterparts, under any circumstances.

She dealt drugs, slept with members of the same cliché, and orchestrated everything the night of the raid, and that was the night that everyone was arrested.

So even after high-school Richard had not made very much progress with his studies because his pattern of arrests continued, until he eventually landed himself in prison.

Ella, his mother had lost both her husband and her son, now she was alone, and she reluctantly decided that if she couldn’t save her husband maybe she could still save her son.

Instead of getting him out, she let him stay in, even thou it killed her to do so.

He had made the same mistake one too many times. Now she had wanted to teach him the lesson that her late husband had tried to so long ago, and one long overdue.

And then the next winter, she came down with a case of pneumonia, which normally is not serious, but she had complications, that led to other problems, and one night her weakened heart failed her, and she died.

Some say she died of a broken heart instead of a heart attack.

Richard was still in prison when he found out his mother had died. He petitioned the state, to attend her funeral, but he was denied furlough, too many previous arrests.

Richard was placed in solitary for a month to prevent him from finding a way to commit suicide or get himself killed intentionally.

To be continuted….

Please allow me to introduce myself…

I am the Rath,

the greatest writer of my genre, I don’t have one…

I am giving you five chapters of my fifth book as a preview, if I can’t hook you in five I don’t deserve you.

The fifth chapter is not available yet…

For those of you who don’t know me, and won’t subscribe to me, maybe you shouldn’t read my material either. If that’s how close minded, and selfish you are. Maybe you should join the Illuminati yourself???

The group of Satanic Bankers who want to create a one world order so the Devil can take control to enslave the human race.

The Bible alludes that the Devil can not create, only destroy, Human Beings throughout history have sold their souls to obtain money, power, and wealth. all at the expense of the rest of us, in and attempt  to create a one world order for that “sole” purpose.

I had my chance to join almost five years ago, when I arrived in Los Angelo’s (City of Angel). I write about witchcraft, demonology, cults, political corruption, so I caught their attention rather quickly.

But I refused.

You’ll never write in this town again.

That was a joke.

I’m going to be successful, no matter what, but unlike other artists Vincent Van Gogh, and Phillip K. Dick, it would be nice if I could see some of that success in my own lifetime.

Only you can make that possible.





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