Excerpt 3 - Temporarily Evil: Fault and Forgiveness After Forced Participation in Satanic Ritual Abuse, MK-ULTRA and the Secret Space Program
Extreme Coercion to Murder: Brave Pippi
Temporarily Evil: Fault and Forgiveness After Forced Participation in Satanic Ritual Abuse, MK-ULTRA and the Secret Space Program
by Anastasia Sprout
Excerpt 3
This book excerpt is intended for educational, healing, and child/victim protective purposes. It may not be reproduced or transmitted for money or commercial exchange without the prior written permission of the copyright owners, Anastasia Sprout and SOAAR Global, PMA.
Non-commercially, please share and quote freely as inspired and helpful.
Just not to children.🙏
Disclaimer
TRIGGER WARNING*: This book contains descriptions of extreme violence, emotional, sexual and spiritual abuse, and torture. It contains themes of occult/Satanic Ritual Abuse** and Torture-Based Mind Control***. Please consult your highest source of knowing if reading is beneficial for you, stop reading if you feel overwhelmed, and get safe support.
This book is not suitable for children.
Neither the author nor the publisher shall be liable for any emotional, psychological, physical, sexual, financial, or other kind of damages. If you feel at risk of harm from this material, do not read it.
*I recommend readers practice the meditation described in Chapter 13: How to Create an Energetic/Etheric Shield aka “Connect and Protect”) before reading. What I mean about focusing your intent to create an energetic shield (C&P) is to use your creative mind to visualize a positive energetic barrier between you and anything or anyone that might harm you. Even when not reading, I recommend doing this energy hygiene practice twice a day, as often as you remember. I could not have remained sexually sober since 4-18-04**** (the day after Easter that year, no coincidence) without clearing negative parasitic entities and learning to protect myself from further intrusions.
Meditation to Ground, Connect and Protect
Breathe, feel body, get needs met
Hold any part of body that needs nurture, get comfortable
Visualize a field of love-light surrounding you that nothing harmful can cross
Anything approaching without a positive purpose will bounce off this field, returning to place of origin or to creator source
Invite in assistance from the highest source of love and light, creativity itself
Pause to feel connected with any special ones that can helpfully assist you freely
With each breath inward, strengthen that connection with creative source of love
With each breath out, release any and all tension and density
Affirm your goodness and courage on this day
**I have a friend who studies original languages, who states that the term Satan originated as meaning logic in ancient Greek, or is a derivative of the word Saturn. In my experience, the term Satanic Ritual Abuse (SRA) has been widely adopted as an umbrella term by survivors of extreme ritualized abuse from around the world, though the actual religious or occult ideology may differ.
***Although I am aware of the popular term Trauma-Based Mind Control to describe forced participation in MK-ULTRA or other Death-Cult Network programs that force-structure dissociation to shape children into enslaved operatives, in this book I choose to use the term Torture-Based Mind Control as a more accurate descriptor of my experiences. All torture is traumatic, but the word trauma (wound) is not synonymous with torture. Childhood Organized Extreme Abuse mind control is extreme torture and extreme control.
Torture: the action or practice of inflicting severe pain or suffering on someone as a punishment or in order to force them to do or say something.(Oxford Language Dictionary)
****For more information on my journey to sexual sobriety, see Naked in Public: A Memoir of Recovery from Sex Addiction and Other Temporary Insanities. That book does not focus on healing from Organized Extreme abuse, but healing from childhood alcoholic/dysfunctional family dynamics, complex trauma and sexual compulsion that are commonly its symptoms.
Chapter 5: Brave Pippi (Age 6ish)
Recall 2022, Age 51
Location of Abuse: Deep Underground Military Base DUMB near Yakima, WA USA
My memories of SRA-Torture-Based Mind Control are returning in much more detail, with new ones every few days, and despite the DO NOT TELL programming and a twinge in my back like a needle poke, I write them down. It’s profoundly painful, but my heart and spirit urge me on. I am convinced that the way out of the Death-Cult currently globally operative is in part from the loving witnessing of such disclosures, and from whatever enlightened action we as a good world can take to intervene to protect the children STILL enslaved…and the innocence that lives within us all.
This is a pivotal memory from when I was about six years old, which took place in a D.U.M.B. or Deep Underground Military Base. I called it “the tunnels” in my mind, and I believe this is an actual structure located within military land east of Yakima, WA, USA. Above ground, the Yakima Training Center is 327,000 acres, or 511 square miles. This equates to roughly have the size of Rhode Island. Below ground, where I was, this place was concrete and cavernous.
I have since learned this episode was part of my Domination training, Emotional Desensitization-Detachment training, and Assassin training. These are also referred to as “programs.” The goal is to split a child’s consciousness by tricking them into thinking that killing is good, so they “choose” to murder. Once that is accomplished and the child completes the painstakingly groomed “assignment,” this experience is used to “build” an entire back-life or divided set of selves upon. This “structured dissociation” allows perp-programmers to call up the horror memories and “torturecraft” whole new sentient personalities out of the battered, ashamed, fragmented child’s mind. Many children do not complete the murder they are carefully torture-tricked for over a year to conduct, but I did. This event followed the group baby murder described in the previous chapter.
My “reward” was to rejoin my family “topside.” By “completing my assignment,” I was told I would be able to escape the DUMB captivity and live “happily ever after” – or so I thought. Turns out that was just another program, and my enslavement was intended to be for life. It’s easy to trick a terrified six-year-old held in captivity away from her family and everyone she knows. Especially when her beloved daddy tells her that he had to do it too, that “we’ve all had to do it,” and it’s “for the family.”
I couldn’t know then how long this had been planned, or that my very name, Staci, was chosen because it meant loyal in Greek. This word was used repeatedly in my torture-conditioning to reinforce my compliance with “family loyalty” which really meant keeping Death-Cult’s toxic secrets. This is why I later chose Anastasia as my true name, breaking that connection.
Eventually I realized that I lived in the military-monster-run underground tunnels from approximately age 3-6. As the memories were first returning, I thought I just visited there and went home most of time; I now believe that I lived there and was occasionally brought "home" to my family's small duplex in Yakima to create "normal" memories that would shield the crimes being committed. And give me an incentive to follow orders, so that I might visit and one day live “above ground” all the time.
I believe these memories returned because I befriended someone in my adult life who reminded me of the girl from my past called Pippi, and they were coming up by association, for clearing. Though I am no longer in touch with this adult friend, she supported me to find the strength and courage heal these experiences, and to this day I love her dearly.
Pippi and I are naked in the bathtub. I am 6 years old; she is 5. I already have my tiny exacto knife called my "Little Nick" - this is to be my first human kill with it. I have been forced to rehearse this using animals and child corpse bodies' wrists set up in water. Everything is being recorded, and will be played back to me in my future shame and assassin programming. I will be forced to watch this over and over, later. Perhaps it was sold or otherwise distributed; probably...
Pippi trusts me completely. She's been mind-controlled as my slave for a year, so emotionally we are highly trauma-bonded through various horrific experiences in the DUMBs. We were kept in the same small cage, often starved and deprived of water, raped at the same time, or left alone under surveillance with toys (if we were compliant, which we were). When she first arrived to the cage I was kept in, I was told I had to take care of her, which was made increasingly difficult because our food was provided only to me to dole out to her, and our meager rations were cut smaller and smaller over time. My choices to share or not were carefully noted, whether I was generous, selfish or fair (this varied). Now, I was told that the time of caring for her was over, and “it’s time to ‘take care’ of her.” Then I would finally be free to eat all the rations, and if I did well I would soon complete the program and get to reunite with my family up top. I want this more than anything.
Two little girls in a big white bathtub, in a stark room with white tile. I tell her I am going to cut her wrists so we can watch the pretty red ribbons and swirls in the water, and that it won't hurt much. These are words I was trained to say, "red ribbons and swirls."
“Aren't they pretty?” someone said during my previous programming, strapped to a table while electrodes stimulated my clitoris. This was the origin of training for (Blood) Lilith aka B.L., later grown into puberty and used in rituals like the Fires of Hell. It was a woman's voice, that trainer:
“Wouldn't you like to see more of these? Look at how they curl around. See the pretty red?”
The voice is cloying, full of encouragement…I hear it while being forced to watch blood in water in a jar, other times on a film, with a projector. I am afraid it was my mother's voice. I do not know.
A brief flutter of fear and doubt passes through Pippi's usually dull eyes, as I hold her gaze. It's me, the one who has always been with her in this underground hell, saving her life in scenarios that felt oh, so real. How easy it is to trick a 4-year-old, as she was when she first arrived.
She holds out her wrist, slowly.
“Here.”
As I recall this moment, I hear more than her thought; Pippi and I communicated mostly telepathically with 1-2 words, hand gestures, lots of emotions and visual mind-pictures. Spoken words were rare between us unless commanded, so saying anything aloud was a big deal.
***
‘Making it important,’ was a vibration I recall when my own family member "initiated" me at age 4, behind and under boxes in our cavernous-to-me garage. We'd made a little fort, and he had lit a candle and held a stick pin with a little baby blue knob on the end. I didn’t know this was Black Magic, or that unless you knew how to defend yourself from it, it was binding.
"This is special," he said. "We poke our fingers with this pin and mix our blood, then we'll be blood brothers and always together, no matter what. It makes us closer than anyone!"
What 4-year-old me heard was what I longed for and never received from anyone: “You are Special, we are Special, we are Important, you are Loved, I want you with me.” This was irresistible to me, a love-starved, horrifically abused child.
Of course I said yes, smooshing my red bead into his as he squished and twisted our fingers together. Abolishing the tummy-pain monster, the cold, dark hollow where love was supposed to live…that was my deepest wish.
***
I did make a quick slice in Pippi's soft skin along the vein as I was taught, then held out my hand for the other arm. As she lifted it, I heard her again, this time in my mind, say “Here”...but also she said “Take me.” That second phrase was not just a thought. It was from a place I now know as her soul, bright and shining, untarnished by the horrors she'd suffered in such a short life.
Send me home.
When first recalling these events at age 51, I was comprehending the depth of Pippi’s soul-love for the first time. Prior to recall, this unprocessed memory was a core engine for my shame, buried deeply and driving my traumatized, split mind into what would eventually become programmed to violence from that day forward. No matter what goodness I subsequently experienced in my “front life,” it could never sink in past these shameful and hidden inner places.
As an adult, to keep from remembering, I acted out torture-programming via self-injury: cutting, plucking out my hair, poking myself with a pin, biting my nails and cuticles until they bled, binge eating, sexual compulsions, and other forms of self-harm. Eventually true healing occurred when I could re-member, tell, grieve, and forgive myself. It’s been a process.
Second "nick" complete, I lowered both her small, slender arms into the now lukewarm water.
"Aren't you pretty," I said as I was supposed to say, watching the translucent balloons of red bloom and stripe. I was the wicked witch now, Wizard of Oz images blending into the moment. My pretty.
"Yes," she whispered, but she was breathing shallowly, and tears now lined her lower lids, unfalling. Now I believe she was sad to leave me. I see her love for me in that sacred wetness. Not (only) a 5-year-old, but (also) an ancient sister of Mother Divine, showing sorrowful compassion at what awaited me in this last lifetime on earth. Could she have known even then that my self-contempt for killing her would fuel my descent deeper and deeper into Death-Cult inclusion and depravity? Contempt that would be brutally exploited by reptilian-run overlords and their half-human puppet handlers at every opportunity, for years? That the word "pip" or even a quiet "p" sound would be programmed to course-correct any possible resistance or rebellion to my mind controller's demands? It's always love that's best used to command, in some twisted form. Inversions.
She soon closed her eyes and lay back, water clouding dark in the ripples. Her breath slowed, slowed, and I did not move, and time vanished. Before she stopped breathing, she made a small sound from the back of her throat, a low almost-squeak, a tiny protest to her life force exiting. Then she was gone; Pippi was no more animating her twiggy limbs. My gaze fixed on her thin blond hair, wet at their floating ends. No more playmate, no more mind/cage companion. I saw no ball of light leave her body, as I would when my mother passed away forty-six years later - my psychic capacity for such sight was torture-bliterated upon my arrival into the MILAB, so I could not perceive nor access help from the spirit realms. It was only gradually that such gifts returned, in fits and starts, as I was breaking free as an adult.
No, all I had then was a dead Pippi, and the dawning awareness that her sweetness and brightness were gone from me. My mouth dropped open and I leaned back in the water, my breath now a pant, ohnoohnoohnoohnoohno my mind tattooed on itself, again.
Whathaveidonewhathaveidonewhathaveidone?
I didn't know how much more horror programming awaited me then, with Pippi's body and so much more. My first human dressing - skinning, gutting, quartering, deboning. That I would be forced to carry a bag of her flesh around with me, tied to me on a rope. That I'd call it "chicken," pretending it wasn't her, until my torturer broke that denial and I called it pip, pretending it was, that she was still with me, my imaginary friend, that I wasn't being regularly forced to eat. Until my torturers noticed that too, and even that remnant was taken, not to return for 45 years.
Of all these horror memories, this one — and the rape and murder of Duchess the dog — held the most pain throughout my life, because they occurred when my heart was still open and tender. Everything that followed these deliberate heart-rending set-ups was dulled in their aftermath. My emotional center was “frozen” in trauma. The Death-Cult needs hardened, heartless slaves to carry out their dark wishes. Most do die after such atrocities, understandably, often by their own hand. But these are not suicides – they are Death-Cult murders by proxy.
===
This chapter is dedicated to the late survivor-whistleblower Kevin Sutherland. https://x.com/KevSutherlandx/status/1869556031661261099?t=rif9iddpXaOXzgNQ13uYfA&s=19
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PLEASE HELP!
We must stand up for survivors of Organized, Extreme Abuse! Please sign and share this petition:
END All Forms of Satanic Ritual Abuse/Mind Control and Demand Reparations Now
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©Anastasia Sprout and SOAAR Global, PMA
I hesitate about sharing this- but I have decided I will. I'm so sorry but also amazed that you have the strength and clarity to write about it. Of course no blame or guilt can attach to you, especially since you are managing to expose it so eloquently and brilliantly- destroying all doubt in your readers that these things happen in America and elsewhere. But who were the humans or entities running this DUMB and where can they be found today? How do we pull them out of the shadows and send them to hell where they belong?
I was aware of the satan/Saturn/Satanas connection but not that the original Greek meaning of satan is ‘logic’. Also the Hebrew meaning "adversary, one who plots against another." Take a look at what human means. Here are some notes from my Cult of Law files.
We’re Only Human After All – Or Are We?
The following definitions have been sourced the Aetherical Blogspot:
When the compound word hu-man is broken down into its constituent parts “hue” and “man”, it gives us color of man; the appearance as distinguished from that which is real; having the form but not the substance. A living body without spirit is not in the realm of reality. A false image of a man. A human being is therefore the form rather than the substance of man.
Human: Belonging or relative to man as distinguished from God or superhuman beings; pertaining to the sphere or faculties of man (with implication of limitation or inferiority); MUNDANE; SECULAR; often OPPOSED TO DIVINE. Oxford New English Dictionary 1901
Human: Adjective. [Latin Humanus; Heb. Form, species] 3. Profane; not sacred or divine; as a human author. Websters Dictionary 1828
Human Being. From Latin “Humanus”: a lesser/inferior man or woman defined legally as and ANIMAL or MONSTER distinct from the ancient (pre-Vatican) term homo: man. A key rule of law from the 14th century describing a fundamental LEGAL FICTION – that is the NOTION of an inferior man or woman as an animal (as defined by Papal Decree) and therefore not subject to the laws of free men, but the laws of property.
The decision to create a second word for Homo (man) denoting an inferior ‘animal’ man, was crucial to the legal implementation of the Vatican global slave trade from the 14th century – to overcome the questions of legality and morality of the Vatican slave trade. Therefore, unbaptized indigenous populations were legally defined as “humans” and therefore “animals”. Legally, the NAME OF A HUMAN MUST ALWAYS BE IN CAPITALS TO IDENTIFY THAT INDIVIDUAL AS PROPERTY as distinct from a free man. Ex-Jesuit Frank O’Collins provided this definition in 2005.”
So the human being is a being conceived in the mind, a notion, a fiction.