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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Seiqe on 2024-11-05 03:38:59+00:00.

Hi, I’m Seiqe, and I’m the poster who got banned off X (twitter) for posting my occult findings. No way the pics I posted were a violation of TOS. I don’t think the content was half as horrible as the Ukraine videos I’ve seen scrolling, but somebody reported my account.

Today, I’m here to clear my name. If this thread gets popular enough, I might get my account back.

All you need is context about me and what I do. It’s plain nothing I showed, or demonstrated, was evil (as they said in the ban letter). But they’re going to pretend like they’re the arbiters of what’s good and true? A ridiculous, wrong, and unseemly thing for a company to do.

So, let’s get this out of the way, I believe in magic. If you don’t, fine, even more of a reason I should get my account back. I would wager most reading this are skeptics and non-believers, but there are a few folks who might be in tune with the spiritual — who’ve seen the power of mysticism. Because magic is faith, but magic is also fear.

You’ve all tried magic at least once in your life.

How many scary games did you play when you were a kid? You know the ones like Bloody Mary, or Cat Scratches — everyone experimented with them. And they’re thematic of what I’m talking about when I say magic is faith and magic is fear.

Stay with me:

Bloody Mary is a mirror game where you perform a ritual to summon the ghost of Bloody Mary in a mirror. I first played it when I was eight with my neighbor Sam and his older sister Aggy. I didn’t see anything, but when Aggy tried it, the mirror cracked, and a glass shard cut her cheek. She said she hadn’t seen Mary, but she had seen something. Out of all of us, Aggy had been the most afraid to play the game. I didn’t know it at the time, but it was her fear that had given power to the ritual.

They’re all invocations: The Midnight Game, Light as a Feather Stiff as a Board, Devil’s Face, Ouija Boards etc… all of them are rituals; played by children, invoking faith, fueled by fear. You cannot have one without the other.

So that’s the baseline, the undercurrent beneath all of this. Like folks believe in gods and money, I believe in magic, ritual, and supernatural powers.

I think I always have. Although, it wasn’t until I was in high school and I ran through The Ars Goetia, that I was inspired to start my own book of spells. I categorized all spells and rituals that I wrote down in my little book by religion, difficulty, and potency. Not that they were potent at first. Not until I proved to myself that there were doors to truth that could be reached through them. I wasn’t looking for an almighty, or a way of living; rather, for powers that lie outside of our metaphysical realm.

Which I didn’t really encounter until college.

Remember I mentioned I grew up with Sam? I also went to college with Sam. We shared a dorm.

We spent our late nights watching horror movies. He was a goth kid in high school, and I was a weirdo. In college he became a stoner art major, and I stayed the same weirdo. But by then we’d been friends long enough that me lighting candles and mumbling over archaic books didn’t weird him out.

But it did weird out his girlfriend, Tina.

She wore overalls that were always covered in some kind of oil paint. She’d stay over some nights and drink a little, and I think I annoyed her with my chanting.

“Could you put out the candles? It’s three in the fuckin’ morning,” she grumbled at me, as she unfolded the pillow from her head.

“I’m almost done,” I muttered, “and don’t interrupt me.”

“Stop with the bullshit. That’s fake, go to sleep.”

“You wanna bet?” I asked, looking up from my summoning table (which at the time was a fold out meal tray.) I practiced my sigil carving on a chalkboard, but only burned candles inside after I set off the fire alarm our first week.

“Yeah, I do want to bet; if it’ll make you go the fuck to bed.”

“Next time you stay over — I’ll prove it.”

“Fine, now fuck off with the chanting.”

Tina didn’t stay over until again until a week after mid-terms.

Which gave me time to prepare. See, dear reader, skeptics are notoriously hard to convince. Even then I knew that it took a certain state of mind to experience the occult, like the kind I tried to achieve through rigorous arcane practices.

But stuff like summoning was too in depth for novices — they don’t know their cardinal points from their elbows. They didn’t have the faith to find real power. But then, I theorized that all it might take were the right conditions to inculcate fear to fuel faith. And I was reminded of those old games that I mentioned we used to play as kids. Something like a game, but heavier, with more substance might do. One game in my spell book stood out to me: Three Kings, which was famous for its strict rules, and was designed to set about certain conditions. Once met, they might affect anybody.

“What’s with the mirrors?” asked Sam, the night Tina was to stay over. 

“Remember when we played bloody Mary as kids?” I asked.

“Yeah, Aggy still has the scars.”

“This is like that, but a lot more powerful. I made a bet with Tina that I would convince her that the supernatural existed, by the way” I said.

“And you’re just now telling me? That’s kinda fucked,” Sam said, not looking super happy about it.

“Ugh, don’t be jealous. I’m not making a move on her; I’m showing her the occult.”

“Man, sometimes you take it too far,” he said. “This is why I can’t bring you to parties, you talk about all this weird fucking bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit. Don’t you remember how Aggy saw something?”

“When we were eight!?” he exclaimed. “Whatever, if Tina agreed, I guess. But after this, if she still doesn’t believe you, you’re done,” Sam said, pointing a finger at my chest.

The rules of the Three Kings game were simple. Wake up at 3:30am exactly. Within 3 minutes go into a dark room that’s prepared with all the materials: a lit candle, a fan, two mirrors, and three chairs. Two chairs should be set facing one chair, with tall mirrors placed in both of their seats. Put the fan behind the empty chair where you’ll be sitting. The idea is to sit down with the lit candle in front of you to block the air. Gaze above the candle flame into the darkness. Do NOT look directly into the mirrors.

And soon two others will join you, seated in the mirrors on either side. The game’s premise is all about asking them questions. They will answer and ask in turn. Together you make the Three Kings.

By the time Tina arrived it was close to 11pm, and I already had the mirrors set up. For the chairs — I used lawn chairs, which was what we had. I’d also shut our curtains.

“So, what’s the candle actually for?” Tina asked, after I explained the game to her.

“The candle is a kind of tether, if something were to happen — like you falling off the chair, the fan would put out the candle and end the ritual,” I explained. “Oh, and don’t look directly at either mirror.”

She laughed. I rolled my eyes. 

“You gotta wake up when I wake you up, promise?” I asked Tina. 

“I regret this,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “But sure.” 

“You have to take this seriously if you want to be convinced,” I said. And she shrugged. 

Sam and Tina kind of ignored me after that and smoked a little, then went to bed. I was too excited to sleep. I was supposed to wake up with the alarm clock, according to the rules, but I was still awake when the clock struck 3:30.

I woke the two of them up, their eyes bleary, and they followed my instructions with much yawning and cursing. Tina took her seat in front of the mirrors. I handed her the lit candle and turned on the fan. Sam and I went out into the hall.

“How long is this supposed to take?” Sam asked, his eyes drooping.

“I don’t know, but we’ll give her like fifteen minutes," I said. Sam was already dozing off against the wall.

Our dorm room had a peephole that saw clear through both ways. Most students put tape over them, and so did we. But I removed the tape that night so I could watch. I remember looking through the peephole, and I saw Tina was awake and not sleeping in the chair. She was sat bolt upright, staring straight ahead. Surprisingly, it seemed she was taking this seriously, like I’d asked. 

Tina did not move for 10 minutes.

I began growing worried around the time I saw her gasp, like she was coming up for air. She started panting, hyperventilating. Wide-eyed, I almost woke Sam. But I decided to watch a bit longer, because something was wrong.

A low, muffled groan rattled the room.

And then rising behind it were deep voices murmuring words I couldn’t make out. Sweat beaded on my brow and I started bouncing on my toes. Was this really happening? Would I finally see the supernatural after believing in it for so long? 

The voices grew louder and more guttural but stayed distant. I heard Tina sobbing. But Tina was sitting there, not moving, completely still.

This bothered me. And despite how much I wanted to see what would happen next — what powers would reveal themselves; I woke up Sam.

“Tina’s in trouble.”

“What?” he asked, snapping alert.

Sam went to open the door. It was locked. He tried our key, but it didn’t turn. He pounded on the door, calling Tina. He slammed his shoulder into it, but it didn’t budge. I shushed him; if he was going to be loud, he might wake up the whole dorm.

“Who the fuck cares!? I’m getting others,” he said, pulling away from the peephole. And he sprinted down the hallway, shouting for help…

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