Tag: deadwater

In my last post, I said something that should have given you
pause. When describing spirits of the dead, I said, “They can even be exploited
if a magus is so inclined. If they can’t learn to chill even after they’re
dead, fuck ‘em.”

No one told you that being a magus makes you a nice person,
right? There are reasons why necromancy is reviled by many cultures. Most of
those reasons are bullshit based on fear and control. But being a necromancer
does sometimes mean blurring some lines. If you as a magus decide you may need
a weapon at your disposal, even just for self-defense… well weapons come at a
price. A weapon is not an innocent thing, despite what the NRA wants you to
believe. A weapon always requires you to compromise your innocence. A weapon
symbolizes you are willing to do harm. A spiritual weapon can be a costly thing
indeed.

The most powerful weapon in my spiritual arsenal? Without a
doubt – Deadwater. What is Deadwater you ask? Lucky for you folks I know the
leading expert. The number one source. I turn you over to the words of my beloved
brother, Frater Yaramarud, the man who provided me with this amazing substance.

“My first encounter with Deadwater came nearly a decade ago.
At the time, I saw it purely as a novelty and not something with the nearly
boundless potential that I know today. Traveling down the road with my good
friend Frater Dreadnaught, and an ex-partner of mine, the three of us had made
a late night decision to stop at the next cemetery we found in order to waste
time in a way that people in their early twenties are wont to do. When we
finally found one and had parked the car, a light in the center of the cemetery
had drawn our attention to a pump well gently illuminated beneath it. My
initial thought was one of curiosity and bewilderment. What reason could there
possibly be for there to be a well here? With this question unanswered, it
dawned on me that the corpses surrounding us had, beyond any doubt, decayed and
seeped into the table from which this well drew.

After jokes and general fucking around, we left the cemetery
without even noting its general location. Though I had lost contact with my
ex-partner, Fr. Dreadnaught and I remained close friends. During this time, he
had enlisted in the military and left our home state for roughly 7-8 years.
Though we often discussed the possible location of the Deadwater, the only
thing that either of us could remember was the highway that it was most likely
located on. With him gone for years and me being the only person that could
feasibly find this place, I did all I could do in order to locate it. Driving
up and down the highway proved fruitless, as did looking at maps of cemeteries
along the route and cross-referencing them with Google. My last effort was to
post an inquiry on a local genealogy group under the guise of searching for the
grave of a relative. This too led to nothing. I was forced to give up, and so
it was for about six years.

Last year, however, things changed. Fr. D had moved back
from California and had spent some time living with my wife and I. It was
during this time that we had become determined to find this Deadwater once
again. As we had both evolved in our magickal practice, it had become less of a
curiosity and more of a holy grail; here was a tool that had so much latent
potential, and yet it was completely out of my reach. One night in September of
2017, we had decided that, since it was once again physically possible for us
to find it together, we would do exactly that.

I’ll spare you the details of the ritual itself suffice to
say that Fr. D and myself had performed a Goetic invocation for executing our
will. In hindsight, we had made a mistake. For our statement of intent, I had
simply said, “It is our will to invoke XX to lead us to the Deadwater
located along Highway XX.” It was during the ritual
that I was mentally given a map of the county through which the highway ran,
with a marker placed by the demon. With the image still firmly visualized, we
pulled up a map of cemeteries in the county that this marker could possibly
represent. After making a list with their corresponding addresses, we left in
search of the Deadwater.

It was the middle of nowhere; we were surrounded by corn
fields in every direction. After taking the final turn, still flanked by corn
on either side, the GPS indicated that we had arrived at our destination: the
first cemetery on the list. There was nothing. Just corn. As Fr. D was
rechecking the address, I slowed the truck to a stop. Just before we had become
entirely motionless, the field opened up to reveal the stones we were looking
for, but they weren’t familiar at all. There was no light in the center. It was
just darkness. Despite this, we decided to look around anyway. After all, we
had the entire night to look, and maybe the light had burned out, or our memory
of the place was faulty.

We spent roughly 30 minutes wandering between the
gravestones, splitting up to cover more ground. As we both began to lose hope
and had called out that we should go to the next address on the list, I noticed
a dim light in the distance. I called to Fr. D to meet me and we could explore
this light together. Once we had reconvened, we started walking together
towards the light. Not even ten steps from when we started, our headlamps
simultaneously crossed, revealing before us a pump well.

This was not the same well. We both knew that, and yet a
shiver ran down both of our spines. We tested it. It worked. The demon had
shown us the way, though due to our lack of precise wording, it was not the
same well we had seen all those years ago. We had prepared for this moment and
filled several bottles with the water, water that contained the decayed remains
of hundreds of bodies, water that was the distilled essence of the dead.

Since that night, I have utilized the Deadwater in multiple
ways. The first ritual that we had done with it was a joint effort between Fr.
D and myself. He had volunteered to drink a small portion of the water, and a
ritual was formed around this primary action. Performed twice, we discovered
through Fr. D’s gnosis that he was able to visualize and speak to his own
ancestors. Thus, not only did this water stand as an essence of the dead that I had discovered through my own later experimentation, it was able to
form a link between their realm and our own.

Its apparent linkage to death and focal point of death have
proven invaluable. Apart from the aforementioned use of contacting one’s
ancestors, I have used it as a method of simplifying my altar. Rather than
having dozens of pictures of my ancestors for veneration, I find it just as
effective to place a bottle of the water with an image of my family crest as a
sort of condensed fetish. Another similar use I have found is mixing the water
with the gravedirt of my grandmother in order to form an anointing solution
that has a direct link to my lineage and those that came before. In using it as
a kind of “essential oil of death”, I have found that it works with great
success in “jinx” or “hex” work as a medium for freezer spells and the like. It
has also worked equally well as an intensifier for other gravedirt workings and
as a component for spirit work. Though these cover only my own current
experiments with the Deadwater, I know that its potential has exceeded every
expectation that I have had for it. As I continue to find new uses, it
continually astounds and amazes me.”

What’s the first lesson to be learned from this amazing
story? Have a tribe! There are other awesome magi out there. You can find them.
It will take hard work and dedication to actually work together. I travel
thousands of miles a year just to be with my tribe. But it’s so damn worth it
when you experience that love and are gifted with magical knowledge, and receive
gifts like 750 ml of Deadwater.

Lucky you, you can buy it online from Frater Yaramarud at
his most excellent store, Welcome to Tarotdise, where he and his wife sell some
amazing hand-crafted occult products.

Back to the original point and my experiences with
Deadwater. As far as I know I am only the second person dumb enough to drink
some of it. I immediately tasted the earth and rot of the grave. My vision
dimmed, and I felt myself slipping between the land of the living and the realm
of the dead. All from one sip. BTW, I in NO WAY endorse drinking the Deadwater.
It is not sold for consumption. If you get intestinal parasites or a fungal
infection, that’s your problem.

Meditating on the bottle sitting on my altar has produced
some interesting visions. You can literally see the angry spirits swirling
around in the bottle. No, they are not happy to be there. And I get the feeling
the Deadwater captured some of the most malicious spirits of that particular
cemetery. Is it wrong to use them for my own devices? Probably. But a magus
gotta do what a magus gotta do. I’ll talk some more about the nuances of such
necromantic work in a later post.

In my opinion, Deadwater is essentially spiritual toxic
waste. No other spirit I know likes to go near the stuff. I really don’t want
to meet the spirits that would enjoy it. For example, I recently had an
altercation with a certain Red Goddess who has been fucking with my love life
hard. Of course, she laughed at my admonitions of her cruel little games. Until
I threatened to pour some Deadwater over her statue. She shut the fuck up real
quick after that. Is it truly a threat to a goddess? I don’t know, but I
certainly got the impression she wouldn’t enjoy the experience.

As noted, Frater Yaramarud had somewhat different
experiences. Maybe it’s the batch I got. Maybe it’s his intent when using it,
or how he mixes it with other substances. Maybe those spirits just don’t like
me for whatever reason. You don’t have to use it as a weapon.

Yeah, I know a lot of this sounds a bit crazy. But part of
being a magus is learning to frame your experiences in a mythic context. As my
hero Miguel says, “Write your own story. Live your own myth.” Be hardcore. Get
yourself some Deadwater. Better yet, harvest some of your own. Be prepared to
do a lot of banishing before and after you do something like that.