Speaking with the publisher early in December 2013, I learned that over eighty thousand copies had already been sold, and it is possible that the total exceeded one hundred thousand copies by Christmas. There is intense interest in the book that recounts the near-death experiences and visions of the future of “Spencer” (a pseudonym for a member of the Church who prefers to remain anonymous), as told to John Pontius, who actually wrote the book. I am responding to issues raised in a book this is in no way an attack on the man who is reported to have experienced these things (I do not personally know him), or the men who wrote and published them. The following constitutes my own thoughts and feelings about a book that is circulating among us. There are men and women in Salt Lake City and in other parts of the world who are authorized to speak for the Church. The stranger took this mighty army, and with a power bestowed by a god with many heads, tore a great gateway into the world between worlds, leading them to a land unlike anything that had imagined.Note: Although I have dedicated my life to teaching the gospel of Jesus Christ, I do not speak for the Church (nor does this article necessarily represent the views of the institution where I teach). Each legion comprised demonic soldiers numbering twelve times twelve times twelve. Then a mighty stranger came to that place, and bargained for the loyalty of twelve dukes and their legions. Cacus was made a duke among monsters, and ruled - for a time - over the demons he made into slaves. In return for acceding to and supporting this law, Cacus and those as powerful as he were granted high station in a devilish hierarchy that spanned their world. That master laid down rules that forbade the consumption of exquisite kinflesh, so order and stability might flourish in place of anarchy and chaos. Cacus, who had crawled sated from the roiling birth-pit of his kin, gorged himself once again on the corpses of his former rulers, and more than a few of his allies, growing vaster and stronger.Ĭacus's master - Hostilius - was a thing even more massive, that Cacus could not hope to devour. There was a war against an evil even more ancient and outlandish than the cannibalistic aberrations themselves. Timeless aeons passed, great wonders were wrought and great travesties were committed. In their own, vile tongue they named him Cacus. That shape then crawled from its vile cradle and went out among others of his kind. They feasted and - in turn - were devoured, until just one engorged shape lay in that cursed pit. But each of them was a tiny cannibal, and from the moment of their repellent birthing they fell upon one another. He was but one of a clutch of innumerable wriggling horrors. Long ago, in a time so distant I cannot grasp the notion of it, he was spawned in a noxious puddle by an unremembered, muculent sire. For who but an evil man could bend the knee to such a creature?Īs the dreams went on I began to piece together his story.
Strangest of all were the men who bowed, all clad in bright and shining armour which could not hide the darkness in their souls. This thing - this great beast - had other beasts and demons and wicked things bowing before it.
What I witnessed was that he was a leader and hero of monsters. A great inhuman thing all made up of limbs and mouths and pustulent skin.
Some I recognised as being in our world, and some were utterly alien. Each night I would experience the most powerful visions of distant places and ancient times. I first became aware of him in my dreams. Is it madness to be fearful of the end of all things? Is it madness to rage against the dark forces that come to consume us? They whisper behind my back and call me mad. This is my account, so that you may know me and know the doom that is to come.
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