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From the Power of Satan to God: A Testimony

Part One

By Gene Anderson

It wasn’t going to be a very big island; just large enough to facilitate the things I deemed necessary to have on it. Drawing our energy from the sea, sun and wind, I planned on it being a totally self-sufficient nation, not wanting to be dependent upon any foreign country for anything.

There would be no money, no bills, no charge for anything. All one living on the island would be required to do is perform the job they were hired for. Food, transportation, housing, entertainment, etc., would be provided by the government (Island Control = IC).

Having some pity for handicapped people and social outcasts, I wanted to give them chances no one else would; and in appreciation I figured they would be extremely loyal to me. I pictured blind people as prime candidates for telecommunications work; while those with no legs could find their place as engineers. I planned on sending all of them through trade schools and universities to get the training necessary to perform their tasks efficiently.

I intended to run the island sternly but not oppressively. Although discipline was going to be greatly enforced, I would allow the people to call me and other IC officials by our first names, facilitating a more personal and relaxed relationship between the common folk and high-ranking officers. I wanted the people on the island to trust me. One of my desires was to be able to walk down the street with no fear or reason to fear that I would be assassinated by any of the populace. I wanted to be "The People’s Leader."

What one was allowed to do on the island (with few exceptions) would not be according to age, but rather, by ability. For example, if a six-year-old thought he/ she were capable of operating a vehicle and passed all tests, he/ she would get their license.

I decided on an island because I thought it would be easier to defend. I would have an army, navy, and air force. Attack helicopters and Hawker jump jets would save room by eliminating the need for a lengthy and hard to conceal runway. Undersea lookout posts, submersibles, and trained dolphins would be our underwater "eyes." And if the enemy did happen to get on the island, we also had something for that, including fake boulders, trees, and tombstones that would have highly volatile liquid pumped through them that would spray any and all that may be in the area or taking cover behind them. It would then be ignited—a terrible end.

Any religion was going to be tolerated as long as it did not require human and/or animal sacrifices, cause hostility towards IC, force itself upon others, or cause island disunity.

Island pride would be strongly enforced. First offense littering would find the guilty party cleaning streets for five straight days - five hours a day before or after their regular working hours.

Unfortunately, the island was going to have it’s dark side. Our "business" would be compromised of international espionage, sabotage, and blackmail. We would be involved with counter-terrorism with our allies. Those living on the island would be security classified from 1 (high risk) to 4 (low risk). A level three or four wanting to leave the island would have a somewhat fair chance of reaching their destination. However, a level one or two could come up "missing" all of a sudden; or the plane taking them off the island would mysteriously crash into the sea.

As long as the resident did everything they were supposed to do, and not make any waves, they would be OK. But if something happened that IC (namely me) didn't like, the consequences could be severe.

This was all part of my ultimate goal: to obtain an island and run it in a Utopian fashion that would set the standard for all other countries.

It was set in my mind that nothing on or above this earth was going to keep me from this dream. No matter what the cost—family, friends or stranger—I would one day become the "Supreme Commander" of the nation that was going to be called "The Black Empire."

Was I at all serious? I started setting the stage early so that when the time came I would be ready. I made up names for cities, such as Rinzmitter, Westussle, and Borgan-York. I designed insignia for the various ranks of my officers and spent hundreds of dollars on my own personal hat and uniform insignia. My closest friends at that time already had their offices. One was my Industrial Marshal, one was my Security Chief, and the other would be in charge of governmental "dirty work." Yes, I was serious!

The Early Years

As for my childhood, I guess you can say it was pretty normal and, for the most part, uneventful. The only out of the "norm" thing was that at my birth my Mom was 42 and my Dad was 50, with the closest sister of three being 10 years older than me.

I was born in Detroit in 1964 and lived there until 1973, when we moved to the Downriver community of Brownstown. My school years are very obscure, with memories being few. I do know that I hated school and was an introvert—always sitting in the very back of the class whenever I could, hoping the teachers would not call on me for anything. A lot of the time I found myself just barely getting the grades I needed in order to advance to the next year.

Since I did not desire to be a mathematician, science teacher,. etc., I figured why waste my time and energy learning stuff that I would have no use for. I hated school so much that instead of going to graduation, I lied and said that I couldn't make it because I got a new job and my employers would not let me have the day off to attend the ceremonies. So they gave me my diploma and graduation cap early and off I went.

Never really caring much for the party/ social scene, I mostly hung out with a few choice friends. Alcohol and drugs played a very insignificant role in my life. It would be an overstatement to say that I smoked 10 joints my whole life. At times I even hated drugs with a deep passion, especially when I saw what they did to those who took them; how it turned them into totally different people. It was incredible to behold. I did, however, drink—and I got drunk. But sometimes I would go months without having anything alcoholic to drink.

Regardless of the "good time" I sometimes had when I did partake of these things, I never found satisfaction in them. They never took away the emptiness that filled my soul. All too often I felt more empty after consuming these things than I did before partaking of them. What a miserable existence it must be for those who actually depend upon drugs and/ or alcohol for happiness and fulfillment, for I know that these things cannot give them the satisfaction they are seeking.

This is one of the reasons why I pursued the idea of the Empire so diligently. I figured my goal was both logical and one that would satisfy. Unlike drugs or alcohol, once I obtained it, it would not go away in a few minutes and cause me to pursue it again the next day. It would be mine to keep—forever!

It wasn't until late in high school that I took a deep interest in rock and roll. Pink Floyd and Billy Joel were my favorites. Especially Pink Floyd, whose songs about wasted time and fleeting lives really influenced me to go all out in my ultimate quest for world influence, if not supremacy.

I truly believe a misconception about rock and roll is concerning the "subliminal messages" that are supposedly hidden in the words, which you can hear when the song is played backwards. Well, although rock and roll was a big part of my life, it was the plain, clear, and straightforward messages these groups were singing about that motivated me. I mean, songs like "Running With the Devil" and "Only the Good Die Young" don't need subliminal messages to get their point across.

It was not until after I graduated from high school that really significant changes started taking place in my life. Slowly but steadily, the values, ideals, and goals that would shape and control my life began to surface.

The Beginnings

For whatever reason, I took an early interest in World War Two. I became infatuated with the allied and axis war machines, so much so that as I read about different strategies and campaigns. I felt within myself that I was at one time actually a part of that very war. I pictured myself as a former U-Boat commander or an army general who was maybe killed in battle and that I was now a reincarnation of one or several former lives. And as I examined the different phases of the war, I would think about how I would have done things differently to achieve victory. My taste for power began to grow.

Naturally, being a WWII fanatic, I was deeply involved with war games. One of my favorites was Risk. It was from this board game—which has as its goal the conquering of the world—that my true desire to become a real world ruler was set in motion and the idea for the "Black Empire" was spawned. So named because black was my favorite color and the one I always used in the game.

The means and the methods of obtaining this goal started clicking. Pretty soon I was working out several rough details, some of which culminated in what has already been briefly described. It was also around this time that my two greatest obsessions made their strength and presence very real in my life: Money and Power. The two go hand in hand; and getting one will get you the other.

Although I did have some compassion for my family and those close to me, they were nevertheless "expendable" if, for whatever reason, they got between me and my goal. I was fully set on making this dream come true.

I did not enjoy being under anyone else's authority, which is one of the reasons I did not join the military. I would even look upon powerful and influential people with disdain, pitying them for making a total "waste" of their lives, knowing that one day I would be ruling my own country—and maybe even them.

My closest friends at the time were (all names being changed) Luke, and two brothers who I will call Ray and Jay. We had a somewhat close relationship and they said they were behind me 100% in my quest for the Empire. They also had a lot to do with it's planning. They were, in fact, the IC Officer, Industrial Marshal, and Security Chief already mentioned. As close as we were though, after getting the island and establishing myself on it, I had every intention of purging my ranks of those who were the closest to me and who helped me obtain it, especially Luke, who was a very unpredictable and rather ruthless individual.

I was so "security conscious" not to let any of the island's secrets get out to my enemies, that after my labyrinth of complex underground tunnels and shelters were completed, I planned on "disposing" of the contractors who built them. They would take their secrets to the grave.

Even though my friends knew of my violent temper, many dastardly plans, and my total disregard for human life, this did not seem to faze them. It really seemed like they would be with me until the end. But evidently, they did not take me very seriously as to what extents I would go to in order to obtain the Empire.

To fulfill my cravings for power, there was obviously a need for a great deal of money; just to purchase the island, let alone build on it. I wanted to be so rich that I could obtain the power I needed in order to control the lives of whomever I desired.

I knew what I wanted; but how to get it was another thing. Many ideas started flashing in my mind. Although obtaining millions of dollars in one shot would have been ideal, I would more than likely have to start small and work my way up.

One way that I thought would bring me some "easy money" would be to rob a dope house. So many times I read in the newspaper about the police raiding one of these places and arresting only a few people while finding hundreds of thousands of dollars there along with numerous weapons. I figured, "Hey, if they can do it, then so can I." After all, I really didn't think a dope house was going to report to the police that they have just been robbed of their stock. But this problem could be solved if there wasn't anyone left to tell them. So I began asking around in order to find one, and it didn't take long before I was able to put my plan in motion.

We (me, Ray, Jay, Luke and Alice my wife) staked it out and even tried to get in by asking to use the phone. But these people were professionals and very wary. And with the haphazard approach we took, they knew something was wrong. But I was so determined to get in that I didn't give up. We came back several other times over the course of a few days. We almost succeeded one time; but things got a little crazy and Alice was almost killed.

Assuming that I would eventually get my big bust, my attention turned to the movie business. I started writing script and dialogue. Some of my ideas were "WSNT" about a mysterious radio station; "Nature's Creature" about a strange and extremely ferocious little beast wreaking havoc in a National Park; and, "Run Like Hell," which was going to be "X" rated. I figured with the income from these movies (which of course I thought were going to be box office smashes), I would then have enough capital to purchase and start building on my island.

To help me obtain enough money to produce my movies, I decided to become a professional hit-man. The money is good and the job is relatively simple. I began looking for a gun to work with, specifically a .22—the hit-man's "choice." So I contacted a friend of mine, who I will call Duke. He knew a gun dealer and said he could get me one with no paperwork—free and clear—so I told him to get it for me. After having the barrel cut down, I then proceeded to make a silencer for it. Although rather crude, it worked great, and I was ready for my first contract.

I also spent a lot of money on things like hearing devices that could detect a whisper at a hundred yards and on books that show you how to make explosives right in your own home—from nitroglycerin to plastic explosives. Duke left the room just in time when about a tablespoonful of aspirin-based explosive he left out to dry blew up in his basement and shattered the windows. The instructions tell you not to let it touch metal; but the Teflon pan he put it in had scratches on it

1985

The events of this year would all culminate into changing my life forever. I guess you could call it the year of "The beginning of the end."

On January 25th of this year I met Alice, whom I would eventually marry—not even six months later. Even though she was a drug user at the time I met her, I believed she was the perfect woman for me because she went along with my plans and goals. She was also (like me) stubborn and quick-tempered. And if she would back me on my plans to obtain the "Empire," then she was just the kind of marriage partner I needed.

My spiritual life and beliefs were confusing even to me. I semi-believed in an afterlife; but since I wasn't absolutely sure, I lived this life as if it were the only one I had coming. I prayed to the "almighty power" whoever "it" was or "they" were. I did not, however, believe in the God of the Christian Bible. In fact, I told not a few people that the only way I would believe in Jesus Christ is if He came down and stood right in front of me. I also had this idea that if I did "good enough" (according to my definition, of course) down here, that I could attain "god-hood" in the next life if there was one.

My philosophy was simple and wicked. I figured that since evil was the most dominating and "visible" force on earth, then it had to be the most powerful. Therefore I attempted to make contact and ally myself with the residents of darkness. I too, wanted this power.

What Satan and his cohorts can do with a submissive and depraved mind is incredible. I was demonically influenced almost beyond belief. Evil ideas kept creeping into my mind. Each and every day I would develop a greater disregard for human life. I would actually think of ghastly methods of torture for spies or for those who just did me wrong.

Brainwashing was another thing I wanted to "experiment" with. After getting established on the island, just for kicks I was going to have agents pay every Detroit area radio station a large sum of money to play the David Bowie song "Panic in Detroit" at a certain time. Then, while they were all playing it at the same time, pre-planted bombs would begin going off all over the city, causing chaos and death. Large structures would be some of the intended targets.

This shows the depravity of the human mind. I would be involved with counter-terrorism, while at the same time producing my own form of terrorism. It's an example of how people think whatever they do is right, even though they say others are wrong for doing the same things!

I should point out that all of these ideas and plans were without being under the influence of drugs or alcohol. As sickening as these things are, isn't it strange how movies and TV make them to look so "awesome"? Bad guys are feared and get a lot of respect; and I wanted to be the most feared man on Earth.

I also believed that everyone was in a giant game of "survival of the fittest," where all are expendable, and that it was up to each and every individual to do whatever it took to survive and reach their goals. Some of my favorite sayings were "Do unto others before they get a chance to do unto you," and "Kill, or be killed."

Because of my interest In the realm of darkness, I began experimenting with demonism. Luke was very into it. He even wrote a prayer-letter to one of Satan's chief demons named "Arioch" in his own blood, which he then burned.

Ray's girlfriend claimed to be able to commune with the spirit world and also said that she had a spirit living in her house. So her, I, and a few others went to an old house for a seance. I began to grow impatient for something to happen; so I blew the candle out against the wishes of the others present. Once they got it re-lit, Ray's girlfriend turned her head towards the basement with a look of terror on her face. She asked me if I "seen It," to which I said, "no." She then told us that she saw a "white thing" slowly draw back from the light towards the basement. Immediately, mass panic ensued, and all ran towards the door, except me, who was literally dragged out by Alice. I was extremely angry that we blew such a "great opportunity."

It was early in 1985 that I purchased the gun. But before getting my first contract, a major problem arose: the guy who Duke got the gun from said that it had to be registered because the police were asking about it. I told Duke that was impossible because I already altered it. And besides, I had not the least desire to so easily give up the "tool of my trade."

After a while, the guy started getting angry at Duke. He wanted to know where I lived; but Duke wouldn't tell him. When the guy one day threatened to break both of Duke's legs if he didn't get the gun back, we knew the situation was dangerous and getting more so each day.

Because Duke was scared, and I wanted this problem taken care of, we decided to do what we thought was the only way out—eliminate the threat before he found out where I lived.

It was around this time that Ray decided to take his motorcycle and head out to California on a sort of "scouting mission" in hopes of finding some way to get up money for the Empire. We wished him luck, bid him farewell, and off he went. I think it was somewhere In Illinois that his bike failed and the mission was aborted. After some time of hitch-hiking all over, he finally made it back.

While he was gone, the plan to take care of this guy giving us the problem was set in motion. Duke and I worked out the details. I assigned Alice as the emergency getaway driver and Jay was to be the backup in case anything went wrong.

I chose the Fourth of July for obvious reasons. Earlier that day, I spoke with Jay and told him his role. That evening, Alice and I picked up Duke, then we went to get Jay. We proceeded to the man’s apartment and I set the stage as we went. The basic plan consisted of Duke taking over to the man an expired gun permit that I had given him. This was just to gain access into the apartment. Then Duke was to either somehow leave the door open or let us in at the right time. We had no real concrete plan for me to get in the apartment.

Arriving there, we hung out with one of the guy's neighbors lighting off firecrackers. For some reason, the scene was just not right, so we left and came back later. One of us jimmied the lock to the outside door of the apartment building and Duke went up the stairs while Jay and I waited under the landing.

The plan was going far better then expected: the man answered the door and let Duke in, leaving the door wide open. With the gun in my belt, Jay and I proceeded up the stairs. We waited in the hallway where Duke could see us but the man couldn't. I peeked in around the corner and saw the guy sitting at the kitchen table writing something and Duke standing towards the living room. After several times of shaking his head "no," we waited until he finally gave the go-ahead. Duke backed up as I entered. I raised the gun and walked towards the man. He looked up—but it was too late.

After the crime, Alice and Duke didn't seem the slightest bit fazed. In fact, exactly two weeks later on the 18th of July, Alice and I were married. After Luke found out about what I had did, it seems our relationship grew stronger; and from that time on until my arrest, he would become my closest friend. My friendship with Jay, however, was beginning to deteriorate. Evidently, what I had done was just too much for him. Whatever the case, he was just not the same towards me after that.

When Ray finally got back and heard about it, his attitude towards me changed 180 degrees. Once all "gung-ho" for everything I had planned In order to obtain the Empire, he now voiced his decision to withdraw from the "Empire-acle cause." And even more, he persuaded Jay to do the same. I was now without two of my original officers. And if they grew hostile, they could be detrimental to the security of the island. Needless to say, I decided that one day they would have to be eliminated.

The day after the crime, Alice and I attended a motel party. I do not even know who was invited, but her and I were the first ones there. I remember sitting on the bed looking at myself in the big mirror on the dresser. My conscience was tearing me apart. I was feeling terrible; but I managed to shake it off. What helped was telling myself that I could not have these feelings of remorse if I wanted to make killing people my profession. With some struggle, I silenced my conscience and my heart grew harder as time went on.

Although Duke and I were interviewed by the police a few days later, we had our stories straight, and they only spoke with me twice. There was no doubt in my mind that we were very clever individuals.

All I basically did after this was work on things that I thought would help me obtain the Empire, which included making explosives. My whole life was wrapped up in getting the island. Then things started going sour between Alice and I. I think part of the reason was that the "big money" I always talked about wasn’t coming in fast enough for her. And besides, she liked the social scene, which I despised; so we clashed quite frequently. She eventually decided to go and live with her mom and stepfather until we "worked things out." The only thing I asked of her was that she do nothing to interfere with my goal, to which she consented.

We never did "work things out" though. I knew It had to end sometime; so I filed for one of those "quickie" divorces. I called her and told her all she had to do was sign a few papers and it would be done. But she refused to do this unless I gave her alimony and one of the cars. Even though I was mad with rage inside, I managed to keep my cool while talking to her; her stepfather had a bad habit of recording phone conversations. She began to yell at me and said she was "dead serious" about her demands. I silently answered her in my mind: "No, you're just dead." With that, she also went on the same "hit-list" as Ray and Jay.

On July 4th, 1986, shortly after my breakup with Alice, I took an interest in a friend's wife. He was also one of my co-workers. Because he sometimes got overly physical with her and cared nothing for their two young daughters, I thought I would "rescue" her from that troubled marriage. What helped matters was that she was attracted to me; so things went quicker and smoother than originally predicted.

In order to get what I wanted, I would sometimes go to extremes; and moving in on this woman resulted in some of the most underhanded tactics I've ever used against anyone. I even offered my "friend" the opportunity to move In with me after she told him to leave their apartment. I told him he could stay with me until that "nasty" wife of his came to her senses. All the while, I was seeing her behind his back.

Around this time I began to keep a fake diary, dated several months before I actually started it. In it I wrote about the "long, terrible struggles" of affection I was having for my "best friend's" wife. I also added to this detailed sessions with a psychiatrist whose help I hoped would cure me of this severe problem.

After several months (and a few close calls) I presented him with the diary, hoping to get his sympathy and understanding. It worked far better than I thought it would. He said he understood; and around September of that year, I unofficially moved in with his wife.

Although it seemed like things were going my way and I should have been happy, I was miserable. Each and every day that passed by I saw as time lost in my quest for the Empire. As an alcoholic or drug addict gets desperate for their "fix," I was desperate to make sure my life would not consist of a regular, boring, life-wasting nine-to-five job in some stupid office or factory. To me, everyone was a peon and I did not want to spend the rest of my life as a peon.

This miserable life continued through January of 1987. In this month, my wife finally consented to the divorce, which was final on the 15th. I also came out practically unscathed concerning a $1500 lawsuit against me by my ex-stepfather-in-law, who blamed me for damages done to the house that I was renting from him during a break-in. After all these trying events, I thought to myself, "No more problems now!"

Never expecting her to do so, my ex-wife began to "talk." In early February of that year she reported the year-and-a-half-old crime to the police and they began an investigation to gather evidence.

This article is concluded at:
From the Power of Satan to God: Part Two.

Books and eBooks by Gary F. Zeolla, the Director of Darkness to Light

The above article was posted on this Web site June 2, 1999.

Forgiveness and Salvation

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