Today is the 839th day I have walked the Path of Terror in search of
the Beast of Terror. Along the Path of Terror I see many
horrors. Will they consume me? Find out.
If you haven't read the Legends of Vigilance: A Christmas Story
of the Gift of Vigilance, use the following links to review it:
Legends of Vigilance: Part I
Go to Part V
December 30, 2003—Ground Zero Plus 839
"The 839th Day Of Walking The
Path Of Terror"
GROUND ZER0, New York, N.Y.--Dec. 30, 2003 --
Today is the 839th Day of Vigilance. It marks a moment in my
life when I chose to travel a different path in my life, one littered
with the dead and wounded bodies of millions of children, all victims
of the Beast of Terror.
"I walk the
path of Terror"
I walk the Path of
Terror, the one carved by the brutality of the Beast of Terror.
It is a slippery path, for the congealed blood from the children's
bodies make it almost impossible not to slip and slide and nearly fall
upon the piles of corpses that line the path.
I grimace and gag as I walk this Path of Terror.
The revulsion of battered children's bodies, the sounds of their
wails, the agony of their eyes staring blindly into the nothingness of
space, dead stares of innocence robbed of life by tyranny and
oppression, cut down at the blossom of their Spring, curdles my soul.
I clutch myself, as though I might protect my outsides from the chill
of death gnawing inside the marrow of my bones.
There is little glory in being a Sentinel of
Vigilance. To patrol the world of Terrorism requires the
Sentinel to witness the death and destruction of the innocent, to
wallow in the waste of human values. I often stop on my
journey and cry, my tears falling into the offal, gagging as I spy the
entrails of those bloated bellies scorched by the sun, blackened by
the hoards of flies feasting on their shards of ragged flesh.
forced to crawl into the Belly of the Beast
Sentinels are forced to crawl
into the Belly of the Beast, to witness the horror of the Beast's
wrath. There can be no doubt in their minds what the Beast
is capable of delivering to the innocent. There can be no
room for compassion or the allowance of quarter when facing the Beast.
Sentinels who deny the truth of the Beast might blink, might flinch.
If they do, the Beast's talons will swipe with lightening speed,
slicing his jugular.
It is easier, sometimes, to want to fall
Complacent, as so many victims of the Beast have done before.
It is easier sometimes to want someone else more hardened to walk the
Path of the Beast, to see the waste he leaves behind.
But that cannot be.
I know the Beast would want that. He would
want me and all other Sentinels to not track him, to not follow his
path of wrath that eventually leads to his lair where he can be
cornered and contained.
These past 839 days since Ground Zero, the attack
on the World Trade Center, have taken me down many blood-stained
avenues. I have hunted the Beast of Terror with a ferocity
unknown even to myself. He has become a part of me, a
necessity for my tracking of him. I must think like the Beast,
feel what the Beast feels, anticipate his actions, see through his
eyes, or, I will walk into his mouth. If I am not
him, then he will consume me. The true hunter knows he
must become the hunted. The TerrorHunter knows he must become
the Beast of Terror, walk in his shoes, or he will never find him.
wonder whether it is worthwhile to be a TerrorHunter"
I think about the price I pay
for being a TerrorHunter. Sometimes, I wonder whether it
is worth it or not. Is the constant awareness of Fear,
Intimidation and Complacency--the Triads of Terrorism--worth the risk
that they might turn on you? Bite off your head?
Capture your soul?
Then I think of the Children's Children's
Children. I think of the bodies of the victims of the
Beast, the children who have died brutal deaths so that other children
may live. I force myself to see the torn and
brutalized bodies of the children strewn along the Path of Terror as
my heroes, my idols of Courage, Conviction and Right Actions for
It is hard.
How can a brutalized child, abused by a
parent both physically and emotionally, be an Idol of Vigilance?
You see, not all the bodies on the Path of Terror
are dead. Many are in a state of torture, hanging on
crucifixes or strapped on altars, or held in stocks.
These are the children the Beast of Terror
victimizes. These are the children whose parents
shout at them: "I wish you were never born." "Don't
bother me, I'm busy." "You're stupid!" "Don't
you know better." "Leave me alone." "Stop
hearts are fragile
Children's hearts are
fragile. The sword of a parent's tongue can thrust deep
into the soul of a child's sense of worth. Rejecting
a child's thirst to be loved, to be cared for, to be appreciated,
feeds the Beast of Terror. Each of these children's bodies
ends up on the Path of Terror.
Sadly, I witness them daily. I
hear their cries in the silent night, the moaning of their souls
wailing into their pillows as they cry themselves to sleep, wondering
why their parents don't love them, wondering what they have done to
anger their mother or father, or to be so unimportant that their
mother or father has no time to crawl inside their hearts, to learn of
the Fears, their Intimidations their Complacencies.
horror of the children's torture, I see a rainbow on the horizon"
Path of the Beast I walk, I hold my head high. Above the
stench and ugliness of the children's torture, I see a rainbow on the
horizon. I know there are Parents of Vigilance, countless
numbers of them that treat their children with respect and honor.
They nurture the beauty of their children and promote their children's
evolution into strong human beings who care about the future of the
world they have inherited.
They oppose the children raised by parents
who promote to their children self-seeking, self-aggrandizement,
self-appreciation above all others.
I use the rainbow to guide me on the
Path of the Beast. I believe that one day the Path of the Beast
will be paved with the Path of Vigilance. One day,
countless millions will become Parents of Vigilance, Grandparents of
Vigilance, Citizens and Loved Ones of Vigilance.
"The last 839
days have worn me out"
I count on
it. But, quite honestly, the 839 days so far have worn me out.
I feel the sagging of my shoulders and my legs cramping under the
weight of the mission. Can I really defeat the Beast of Terror?
Can I really make a difference, however small, against such a
I mustn't dwell on the question, I know.
The Beast would love me to, for he knows that each time I ask it, the
burden becomes greater, that my knees weaken just a little more, and
my feet begin to slip.
It is better for
me to not count the sum of the days I have been in battle.
It is better to think of today as the only day in my life I hunt the
Beast of Terror. That way, I am fresher, have more
"It is better
for me to think of today as the day I hunt the Beast of Terror"
It is the same
reason I advocate that Parents of Vigilance retake the Pledge of
Vigilance each day. We must vow our allegiance to
Vigilance daily or the Beast of Terror will eventually consume us with
Complacency. We will, over time, forget to remember the
Beast's mission--to fill us with Fear, Intimidation and Complacency.
To erase our Courage, Conviction and Right Actions that benefit the
Children's Children's Children.
I must remember to take the medicine I
I must remember this is not day 839 along
the Path of Terror, but rather Day One along the Path of Vigilance.