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demcnsinmymind · 1 year

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The big ole Friedkin's cult after 1948 lore post

Buckle up folks, my brain came up with more convoluted cliché stuff!

So, yay! As if my possession timeline/lore page wasn't long enough already, my brain decided to come up with even more stuff for Friedkin's cult! Don't mind the fact that Friedkin had a total screentime of maybe 5-10 minutes throughout both movies where we only saw him sacrifice babies and ram icepicks into people's brains without much explanation.

BUT WHO CARES! I'LL ADD EVEN MORE CLICHÉ'S TO THAT AND MAKE IT EVEN MORE COMPLICATED!

Anyway, to recap what I've come up with so far, based on and inspired by canon:

Friedkin ran a cult inside Collingwood in the 40s, one that was looking to turn a human being (experimented with and selected from the wide pool of helpless patients inside the hospital) into a suitable host for the ghost of Friedkin's son, who killed himself while trapped at the frontlines of world war II. All thanks to Friedkin's experiments with a wide range of occult scriptures, his cult ended up bringing their 'idols' into our realm instead of Friedkin's son, namely L/ovecraft's Nyarlalothep "the crawling chaos" and messenger of the outer god Azathoth, which tagged along, too. Accompanied by a whole truckload of other demons, ghosts and creepy things that slipped right through the tear Friedkin created within the building.

It all came to a climax when Lance was dragged through the hole all that mess tore into the building and into 1948, and he in return got possessed by Nyarly first, followed by Azathoth right after Lance helped kill Friedkin along with other patients and then burned the building to the ground. In a nutshell, 1948 was a paradoxical mess and the origin of everything and long story short, that paradox + Azathoth expelled Lance right out of that messy past and back to 2016. I'm terrible at summarizing that lore page but here we go. The detailed page makes more sense than this short paragraph, I swear. Anyway, I never really thought things further for said cult until now, but today is the day folks, and I'm having a ball.

The cult - 1948 until 2016

So get this: not all members of Friedkin's cult were dragged through the time mumbo-jumbo, killed and distorted the second Nyarly and Azzy were drawn inside Collingwood by their experiments and rituals. In fact, some of the nurses/orderlies who had participated in the rituals and experiments weren't even on duty when the whole loop started/ended/crashed. So even with Lance and the patients getting their sweet and bloody revenge on the cult after weeks/months/years of abuse and Collingwood going down in flames - Friedkin's cult slash the cult of Azathoth didn't entirely vanish or cease to exist after August 1948. Quite the opposite, it went on and on for many centuries.

Picture it like cults akin to the one in the awesome podcast Archive 81 or cool movies like "The Ritual" from 2017 or the freaky Midsommar stuff. Or hell, even your typical real life religions and cults. The teachings and beliefs were passed on amongst family and friends of the ones who survived. Hell, some of Friedkin's staff and cult members were in their early to mid 20s in 1948 and are around 95~ish in 2016 and still alive. And with all the chaos that happened in 1948, Friedkin's death a day after their most promising ritual was supposed to take place, the fire right after? They knew their ritual had been successful and that their cult was far from done and defeated.

They were well connected within Ryerson Valley. They got their hands on the investigation notes. They knew the description of the man who supposedly started the fire and burned down their workplace and ritual grounds. They knew Lance was Friedkin's pet project and with him missing post August 16th 1948 and not showing up again, remembering all his talk about the future, the 2000s, time being messed up and all, they knew through all this chaos and strangeness that he would turn up again. In the future. Just like he talked about. They just had to wait for their little possessed success story to turn up again.

So they bid their time and faded into obscurity. They kept their eyes on Collingwood. Watched it get built up again. Watched it get closed in the 60s due to it never recovering from Friedkin's reputation, the fire, the stories. They watched the renovation efforts fail in the 80s and 90s. They waited until March 2003 until Lance did turn up again, only the beginning of his loop for him. They knew he was the one. They watched and let him and his team step foot inside the building. They didn't stop him. They didn't warn him. They didn't let any of them see them. They knew he had to step inside and vanish one more time for them - to end up in their past. And once he was gone, once police turned up again to start their investigation into the disappearance of a film crew, they stood and they watched and they waited some more. Days. Weeks. 9 months, the amount of time Lance had spent with them in 1948. And then some more.

Original cult members started dying, a few every other year, but they never stopped believing, until they reached 2016. In August, there were rumors of the elders sensing the presence of Azathoth within their realm once more. He was back. The host. The one. This time at the end of his loop and down along the linear progression of their living time. Lance Preston, discovered by Kenny the caretaker, brought in to be examined and taken care of at Danvers state hospital.

Now in charge of the cult of Azathoth from Ryerson Valley, Maryland is a 33 year old woman named Andromeda Peterson, granddaughter of one of the original members of Friedkin's cult. Coming from a long line of psychiatric nurses, she happens to work not just at Danvers', but is also the head of the CPH (short for Collingwood Psychiatric Hospital) historical society - which happens to be more than interested in Lance. Stating his curious case and disappearance inside the hospital they've been trying to preserve as the main driving force behind their interest.

Short IRL interlude. Andromeda's FC is Han/nah E/mily Ande/rson in C/ollin M/inihan's movie "What Keeps You Alive". Fun fact - CM is one half of the Vicious bros aka the dudes who wrote GE! So I'm kinda staying within that universe haha. HEA was fantastic in that movie, holy moly. I am absolutely stealing some of her mannerisms from that movie for Andromeda. I mean check it (she's the one with long red hair)

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The cult post 2016 in my main possessed!verse.

Anyway, back to the cult shenigans. Previously, I hadn't really mapped out yet who Lance killed because I loved that he killed someone in canon but hated the second movie and refuse most of it as canon for my depiction of him. But now I got it figured out!

So as stated in my previous lore and bio stuff, Lance was institutionalized at Danver's state hospital after he turned back up in his 'normal' timeline again, and it took him a bit to adjust until something kicked him into action and made him flee from the hospital and investigation into him - thus getting him back outside and ready for his main post-canon verse where he's possessed by Azzy.

But now I got a neat idea and it shall be my new headcanon.

Members of Friedkin's cult/the cult of Azathoth catch wind of him turning back up and being at Danvers and thus it turning back up again, so they're more than eager to get a hold of him so they can further their chaotic fuckery of unleashing Azathoth/chaos/the end times and what not. And since Andromeda as well as a few other members of said cult are working at Danvers, they naturally start turning up right on his doorstep to 'take care of him', 'interview' him about Collingwood, take his record for their 'historical society'.

Basically an expansion of this scene that was cut from the movie but I'M KEEPING IT SUE ME

All thanks to some of the questions being weird, having Azathoth inside his brain as well as the familiarity of Andromeda's methods of gaslighting and just generally being fake and shady as fuck for a nurse (just like Friedkin and the 1948s nurse squad), it doesn't take Lance long to figure out that the cult still exists even in his time and is still interested in keeping their whole stick up of trying to fully unleash Azathoth and wreck hell. Maybe to turn Danver's hospital into a next purgatory like Collingwood (because he also learns, from Azathoth, that the torturing and experimenting on patients is still going on even at Danvers, though more selectively, smarter, and covert), maybe to fuck their entire existence, whatever it is, Lance soon catches on to their fuckery.

And naturally, he freaks. He runs from them. And while trying to do so, he ends up killing someone, the cameraman, a med student and actual genuine member of the historical society, who doesn't actually know about the cult and is in it for the urban legend and history of the place, is fairly naive/somewhat dumb and has been talked into recording the 'sessions' for Andromeda (the guy is basically headcanon pendant to canon Trevor from the second film). So on his way out of Danvers and away from the cult, Lance finds himself forced to kill someone in the freakout to stop them from filming and gaslighting him, and next to breaking out of a psychiatric hospital, has to be on the run from the police and investigators because he's now also wanted for murder.

Andromeda survives his defensive freakout along with the rest of the cult that wasn't there when it happened (again) - so with Lance on the run now, she and thus they are on the hunt for him just like the police, to get their hands on his body as a vessel and Azathoth as their deity and bringer of doom.

Funnily enough though, Azathoth has no interest in their cult and them whatsoever, since they already gave it everything that it needs - Lance, a vessel to parade it around places. It doesn't care for worship or any structures and whatnot, and will be more than happy to kill members of the cult if they get too close. Because unlike it, they want Lance - his consciousness and soul basically- dead and entirely gone so their vessel reaches its full potential for everything they're crazy about , but Azathoth is having none of it because it wants to keep Lance just the way he is. Alive and miserable, and playing on its team sort of.

I'll be flashing their interests and goals out a bit more one of these days and I might integrate her as the head of said cult in modern times a bit more too but here we go, that's all I got for today.

#headcanons #lore #hc : paranormal #hc : cult #hc : azathoth #he made me do it : possessed #Youtube

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mariposa-traicionera79 · 2 years

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Depression is like a darkness that consumes your lite.

For me it's a messy room, lots of sleep, lots of drinking, dreams of suicide, 5:50 pm antidepressants, not color coding my wardrobe. It's the same song on repeat for weeks, it's crying because I can't find my keys or because the shower is taking too long to get warm. My depression started in 2017 and hit the worst in 2019. Lately, I've been struggling to find the light again. I could be laughing with my friends then 2 seconds later thinking about an empty apartment and wondering how long it will take them to find my body. Fighting depression is exhausting, fighting for something that should just come natural is even harder because why wasn't I good enough for that gene? Why does everything in this life have to be a fucking war? I'm fighting for my life with duct tape, an empty paper towel roll and string. I'm trying so hard to stay in one piece, like when I wake up in the morning there's a process and procedure. first step: tape the roll to my neck to keep my head up. Step two: Tape a limb back on and slide to the edge of the bed. Sometimes it's my arm from being under the pillow as I hold him as though he's the flotation device keeping me afloat. Keeping me from sinking to the bottom of the darkness. Sometimes it's a leg because he pulled away in the midst of the night to sleep at the edge of the bed because the simple thought of touching me disrupted his rest. His coldness has caused frostbite and I can no longer move my leg willingly. tape it back on and move to.. Step three: have to tie strings to my feet to get myself out of bed like l'm my own puppet master.

My days are cut into 2 hour increments. Once he leaves for work I have 2 hours to get out of bed and rid my morning voice so nobody at work asks what’s wrong. 2 hours after starting work until it is my first break. Break: when I roll from the computer to slide back into bed and close my eyes pleading..willing for death to overtake my body. Break: slide back into bed but don’t touch the floor because the floor is lava and touching it gives my body goosebumps which reminds me I’m still alive. I text him.. he texts me back at the end of my break. Timer goes off and I have 2 hours until lunch.. I clear my throat “ready?” I say like I’m shaking ants off a popsicle, trying to shake the sadness off my vocal chords. Back to pretending like I care that people’s shipments are late and it’s a life or death situation if they don’t get it instantly. Like my skin isn’t burning.. waiting to slip off my bones. Like my heart isn’t teasing me with the pounding in my ears.. speeding up and slowing down to show me it’s not my choice to live or die.

Lunch hits.. set the timer for 15 minutes text him again ‘how’s lunch?’ Now to rush and take the dog out. Dreading the sight of my neighbors and that fake smile and nod when one crosses my path. 8 of 15 left to finish the dishes and throw some laundry in. Not eating. My stomach is aching and growling: not because I’m not hungry but because the sight of my naked body makes me gag. “I’m not hungry, I’m not hungry, you’re not hungry. Plenty of fat to eat if you’re hungry Body.. “ I say..dishes are done, hands are still wet and dripping, leaving a trail back to the room. -Just in case If someone comes in the path will glow and say ‘just follow the drops you’ll find me in bed.’ I keep thinking “If only this heart will finally give out and I can exhale the stress, the depression, the worthlessness- “Avoid the mirror, don’t look left. The bed is just right there.. “ I say in my head…crawl in bed, timer reset for 14 min and eyes closed. “You’re not good enough, even for death. Not even death wants you” over and over again in my head. He’s been on lunch 20 min and finally a text back.. Timer goes off. The floor is lava slide back into the chair and pull the smile from my back pocket and adjust it on my face like a pair of dentures. “Hello?” I say out loud.. “can you hear the smile in your voice?” To shake off the emptiness , the sadness that echoes rings in my ears.

He and I exchange messages but by then every single insecurity and thought has already crossed my mind. His attention isn’t on me, he’s distracted and he’s doing something else. Entertaining someone else or he’s looking at porn. “Don’t nag him you’re just pushing him away” I distract myself with co workers as my arms feel cold and my finger tips tingle as I text him like everything’s good.

Last break timer set for 14 minutes Time to make the bed. Gotta pretend like I’m ok. I can breathe ok, the day is almost over.. just a little while longer. Change my clothes. Wash up and avoid the fucking mirror like there’s a demon staring back at me and I’m afraid to look it in the eyes or it will take my whole family. “Small mirrors for your eyes only, B” i say again and again. I wipe the boogies from my eyes, practice smiling, put a bra and pants on. Time to take the dog out last time. Run back inside and change the laundry.. if I’m lucky I can lay down for the last 3 minutes until the timer is screaming at me to get the fuck up and finish my day.

Time to clock out time to prepare dinner and tuck my feelings into the bottom of the laundry, but sometimes if I don’t have time I hide them under my side of the mattress and sleep on them overnight. By the morning my back aches from the lump I’m trying to hide in the mattress. “I don’t think he noticed, he’s too distracted to notice. She must be amazing” I say as I roll to his side to alleviate my bones. Sometimes I beg for answers and he tells me I’m crazy that I’m insecure and if he’s not with me he’s at work with other people around so he doesn’t have time. I HATE MYSELF MORE why can’t I accept that nothing is wrong and we’re doing ok? Why are my thoughts deceiving me and why is the residue of my worthlessness smearing, smudging, tainting our love? Why can’t I just let myself believe? You know one time I tried to tell him how dark my days have gotten and he looked at me with a spark. I felt electricity in his touch for a whole week before it faded away. It was nostalgic, like when he used to desire me, he used to look at me like I was a unicorn and he was undeserving of me.

Snap back to reality and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up when I realize it’s been weeks since he’s touched me, since he’s complimented me, since he’s asked me for sex or anything sexual. “You’re not her, you’re not them, you’re not enough. You’re disgusting!!!! YOU CANT EVEN LOOK AT YOUR OWN FUCKING BODY!!! WHY WOULD HE WANT YOU?????” I scoff because I realize showering together is a distraction. He’s tired, I’m tired that’s how we feel after every shower…. Until I tell him. I’m gonna dig because I can sense his dishonesty. He says do it, you won’t find anything. *record scratch* I’m right EVERY. FUCKING.THING. I felt in my bones, in my gut, in my mind was right. He made me feel crazy. Like I was being insecure. Like he was being honest and shaming me for not believing him. I felt damaged. I felt unworthy of the truth. I felt like it was me but I was right. My ache is deeper. Because even if I was right. HE PROVED ME RIGHT. I’m ashamed because not even I trust me enough to be honest with myself to believe my gut, my intuition, my third eye. I’m realizing how lost I am and as I look for me I’m digging into this chest pulling out all his mistakes and lies like scarves I’ve buried myself in. I know I’m in there and I’ll find my own way out. This was just the first step. It’s ok, I’m fighting this war for me, for myself with duct tape, string and paper towel roll in hand. Nobody got me, but me.

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