Ash Return of the Beast

Ash Return of the Beast - By Gary Tenuta


Dedication:

To Julie, for always being there and listening to me rant about how I was going to get over the next stumbling block in the story and for offering helpful suggestions to keep me going.

To my son, Gabriel and his wife, Mercedes, for chuckling at the right places when they read the first parts of the manuscript in its early stages.

To my Mom and Dad who would roll over in their graves if they could read this book.



Also by the author and available from amazon.com:

THE EZEKIEL CODE - A novel in paperback and on Kindle

A BITE OUT OF TIME – Award-winning short story, Kindle only



PREFACE: The Facts Behind The Story.

Let me make it crystal clear: reality is a blurry thing. So, before I begin to tell the strange and horrific present-day tale of death-metal musician, Rodney Duckworth, there are a few facts I should present without delay, facts that will help clarify the story that is about to unfold. To do so we must begin by going back in time to introduce an entirely different character, a man whom the British press once referred to as “The wickedest man in the world”. His name was Edward Alexander Crowley.

Edward Alexander Crowley, named after his father, was born into a wealthy and fanatically religious Christian family at a place called Warwickshire, England, on October 12, 1875. When young Edward would misbehave, his mother would berate him––spewing all the righteous hellfire and damnation she could muster––calling him The Beast. This was, as you may have correctly surmised, a reference to the Beast of the Apocalypse associated with the number 666 in the book of Revelation in the Holy Bible. Such a scolding was apparently the loving, Christian thing to do to the young child.

Years later, while attending Trinity College in Cambridge, Edward changed his name to Aleister. This act symbolically disengaged him from his father whom he both loved and despised (and who, by then, was long dead anyway) and, thus, the young Crowley effectively established his own unique identity. That identity, however, did not escape the influence of his mother. This was evidenced by the fact that, later in life, he would publicly refer to himself as The Beast, a title seared into the consciousness of his inner child by his mother’s scorching tongue.

Crowley was highly intelligent, cynical, sarcastically witty, and completely obsessed with the occult. His adult years were spent traveling the world, meeting and befriending––as well as making enemies of––some of the most influential literary and artistic figures of his time. During his travels he studied and learned all he could about mysticism, occultism, and ritual magick, or what some might call the Dark Arts.

For the sake of saving the reader from having to recoil in utter disgust, I shall refrain from describing some the most vile activities in which he was often engaged. Suffice to say, in his later years, he had dragged himself down into the deepest, darkest depths of depravity and would likely––with great pleasure––have plummeted even deeper, had he but discovered the means by which to do so.

Notorious for his use of narcotics, his heterosexual, bisexual, and homosexual escapades (quite often as part of his magickal rituals) and known for his lengthy, critical, and insightful writings on the nature of ritual magick, Aleister Crowley became arguably the most important figure in all of modern-day occultism. To this day Crowley’s influence continues to attract the attention of all who take an interest in such things.

Curiously, but perhaps not unexpectedly, many of those who adore, admire––and in some cases, worship––this master of mysticism, are musicians of the hard rock variety. Mick Jagger of the Rolling Stones, Ozzie Osbourne, David Bowie, The Beatles, and Iron Maiden are reportedly among such luminaries. Led Zeppelin’s Jimmy Page even went so far as to purchase the home in which Crowley once lived. Not surprisingly then, we could––and we will––add the tortured soul of singer/guitarist Rodney Duckworth to the list. But not yet. We’d be getting ahead of our story. Before we leave Aleister Crowley––God rest his tattered soul––there is one more piece of information concerning him that is most essential to our tale.

Crowley died, financially broke and heroine addicted, at the age of 72 on December 1, 1947 in the comfort of a large estate called Netherwood on the southern coast of England. In accordance with his wishes, his body was cremated. Now, ordinarily that would be the end of it. But nothing in the life––or, apparently, even in the death––of Aleister Crowley was ordinary.

The cinerary urn containing Crowley’s ashes was sent to a man named Karl Germer in New Jersey. Germer was a wealthy German living in America. He and Crowley had been members of the Ordo Templi Orientis (OTO), an occult organization with links to the Order of the Rosicrucians. Germer became one of Crowley’s most dedicated followers. And since Crowley had a talent for squandering away whatever money he managed to scrape together, Germer helped provide him with a livable income for many years.

When Germer received Crowley’s cinerary urn he buried it on his property, in a garden, under a tall pine tree. Some time later he decided to leave his home in New Jersey and move to sunny California. He planned to take Crowley’s ashes with him and rebury them in Malibu. That plan, however, met its own strange fate and spawned a mystery that has remained unsolved until now. What became of Aleister Crowley’s ashes is a story so unbelievable it could only be true.