It's about halfway down the page.
And a story/poem/thing.
Contacting it is much simpler than you would imagine.
Thatís why so few people have done it.
Sacrificing lives doesnít work. Blood is just another earthly liquid. It has no use for corpses.
It does not eat.
Also ineffective are wearing black, lighting candles, drawing sigils, reading incantations, or playing any form of music.
It has no concern for the decorations you think itíll like.
To reach it, just focus on it.
Do not think of goats, snakes, red men with horns, or any such folktales.
Man puts a familiar face on what he canít understand.
Immerse your mind in it. Fear of death. Fear of the unknown. Fear of God. Fear of anything.
It doesnít matter at what you direct it. A man, a woman, a race, a gender, or yourself.
Just hate. Hate until it drives out all rational thought. Hate until itís all you know.
Both the great ones of history and the tiny ones committed daily.
Find beauty in them, and even more the motives behind them.
Tell yourself itís right to do those things.
Then, in its own time, itíll come to you.
Not in a cloud of smoke, not from a burning pit in the ground.
Not as a goat, or a snake, or a red man with horns.
But as a tiny voice in your head, calling you.
It does not speak, it just manipulates thoughts.
Most people donít recognize it.
But if you've done all you need to do, you'll know this is what you're looking for.
Don't ask its true name.
You will hear the screams of every creature that has ever lived, and feel the pain of anyone or anything ever murdered, tortured, or eaten alive.
Noise and suffering beyond the human mind.
No one survives that.
Those who donít die of shock or heart failure, throw themselves off buildings and onto highways. Some die by their own bare hands.
Theyíre the lucky ones.
If youíve made it to this point, thereís no need to ask yourself why youíre doing this.
If youíve made it to this point, you have only one purpose.
You want to see whatís behind all the made-up creatures and tawdry stories of death we use for our cheap imitation of fear.
You want to see whatís behind fear itself, behind sadness, behind hate, behind pain.
The thing from which all of those are born.
So simple, words canít describe it.
We call it darkness, but itís nothing like a color.
We give it hundreds of names because none can label it.
There is only one deal you can make with the devil. Only one thing it can show you.
A sight the mind can't grasp.
Not while tied to human eyes, human ears, a human brain.
In order for you to see it, it must first tear you out.
And make you a part of it.
It will be all you see, hear, feel, and think.
You will get your wish.