"A Satanic Ritual on Halloween: Memories of a Satanic Ritual Abuse Survivor"

11.18.24 | Recalled and Written by Adelaide SRA and Incest Survivor, Jessica Kaitlin

*TRIGGER WARNING*

**Take care if you are an SRA survivor and / or are easily triggered by or sensitive graphic details pertaining to satanic ritual abuse and / or Halloween

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I began to recall Halloween memories 3 years ago before holding a ceremony called 'Sanctify’.

The intention of the ceremony was to ignite our inner fire, purify the land and create light on a very dark night.

While preparing for this workshop, which involved a line of ignited bamboo poles for each participant to hold as a symbol of their inner fire - I began to recall what I had already suspected lay beneath the surface of my mind…

A satanic ritual on Halloween.

For many years previous, I had been varying awareness of an alter (D.I.D / Dissociative Identity Disorder personality) that had felt Halloween to be more of her birthday, than my actual date of birth. Always throwing legendary parties and adoring dressing up. It was a night that part of me got to be free to front and have a good time (as this alter is usually highly restricted).

As I was preparing for "Sanctify 2021", I began wanting to add things to the ceremony space like skulls and placing all the torches in a circle around the campfire. While envisioning how the space would look… I began to have flashbacks.

I quickly realized much of my inspiration was coming from these repressed memories - and did not set up the space anything like that.

The following Halloween pieced more of the puzzle back together as flashbacks arose during what I call “a trauma holiday”.

My body feels strange, unexplainable pains and other alters surface, expressing very heavy dark emotions and desires.

I know I still have much to piece together - and many memories never feel complete when so many questions remain unanswered, for example, location.

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HALLOWEEN - Oct 31st in Adelaide Australia Est: 1999-2003

During the night I was taken to a remote location, a stage made out of stone and 4 white Solomonic columns rose from a stone “stage” rising above the natural environment surrounding us.

In the center of the podium lay a huge intricately cut stone alter, with 2 more seemingly less ornately carved alters sat either side of the marble columned center piece.

I was given some concoction of drugs that caused my body to go limp while retaining awareness and sense of pain.

The ritual seemed to have many different elements going - with multiple types of murders and sacrifices of animals and humans happening on the side alters.

While what I assume to be “the more sacred offering” was tortured and murdered on the exalted central alter.

I was forced to watch all of this. Multiple ritualistic tortures and deaths of poor young Indigenous children, animals and crying babies. 

My mind was deeply fracturing.

Finally, it was my turn. My father, who had brought me here - under the control of his own handler or programmer - took me by the hand and led me towards the middle alter.

As I took steps upwards, many hands and knives grabbed at, ripped and cut away the small white dress I was wearing.

They roughly picked me up and slammed me down upon the carved sacrificing slab. Grooved with channels for the blood to flood and be collected - it was still stained with the earlier sacrifices - although it seemed to have been attempted to be wiped down in preparation.

For me.

My father, dressed in a dark robe covering most of his face - barely feeling like the dad I kind of knew - stood behind my head and pinned down my chest.

The ritual begins. They begin chanting and some kind of spell is induced. I feel myself trying with everything I can, in my small drugged up body, writhing to be free, to no avail.

Sexual abuse begins to take place, and I see many ceremonial blades begin to slide along my body, not cutting me but somehow causing excruciating pain.

By this point, I'm not just dissociating but actively trying to run my consciousness as far away from my body as I fucking could.

The torture continues and my father is being put through some kind of initiation ritual through abuse of me.

He is told he has to kill me.

But he knows he can't - belonging to my mother and the protection of Christ over my life - they all knew it would put the coven at risk to sacrifice me.

A replacement must be offered - and extremely quickly (as this must have been preorganized) a young girl, the same age as me (toddlers) - was flung on top of my body.

She felt so cold and clammy - a ragdoll - also barely in her body. Already mutilated vaginally and not breathing but the very rare rasp.

My father raised the dagger as the other men chanted a chorus of disturbing low vibrations and foreign words.

The girl’s pain was my own as I now realize she has been inflicted with the torture wounds I had felt. They had linked our bodies - like a human voodoo doll.

My father’s knife plunged down into the chest of the little girl lying naked above me.

He ripped the blade up through her sternum to her collarbone.

I could feel the detailed and excruciating pain that she was going through.

It felt like it was me.

I thought my father had killed me.

The knife the rips down the right of the chest near the armpit -- then cuts across to the left side before plunging down to the center of the bottom of the ribcage.

Finishing with a finally deep incision back up through the center of the sternum.

They rip out the little girl’s heart and consume it - my father being forced to take the first bites and then pass it along for the enjoyment of the others.

I think I am dead. I let myself die within.

This is why Halloween is one my alters birthdays.

This was the day Carrie was created.

To “Carrie” the horrendous pain and suffering we experienced that day.

I believe that after this ritual abuse I was taken to my grandmother, and she began to program me.

Which involved some kind of device that force held my eyes open while I was shown a variety of fast-moving images and scenes - while being sexually molested and repeatedly told different phrases and abusive messages.

This new alter was to be exactly what they wanted.

A little satanic priestess.

A whore assassin.

A hidden pedophile beneath the Christian child I was being raised to be.

I rebuke all of those programming in the name of Yashua! 

And I thank The Infinite Creator every day that I was removed from that family at a young age.

(I unfortunately was still accessed a handful of times after my beautiful healing mother got full custody - but for the most part I was able to stop going to my grandparents/father’s home and experiencing the normalized incestuous abuse or further programming after the age of 4)

Thank you so much for reading this.

It brings such a mix of emotions to share these memories with the world.

It always requires a big cry, much tender love for myself and regular reminders of the strength and bravery to speak my truth and continue my mission of exposing the satanic system that is oppressing and abusing the human species.

I regularly have to work through suicide programming that pushes me to kill myself if I speak out about my abuse - and noticing how much less that emotional program lessens in intensity each time - is my personal victory and testament to doing the hard work to overcome and heal Satanic Ritual Abuse.

God bless you all and I pray so much love, connection, conviction, protection and healing over each of your hearts.

-Recalled and Written by Adelaide SRA and Incest Survivor,

Jessica

Kaitlin

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