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The Black Book of the East


The Black Book of the East





Copyright ©2015

André Beerwinkel


Published by André Beerwinkel at Shakespir







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Discovery of the Black Book


Although they planned this break-in for a whole month and they were very well prepared for it, they never expected it to rain like this. This must be the worst cloud burst they have ever experienced during Spring time of any year. Hard, continuous rain with a very strong wind, like one would expect in the middle of winter.


But Joker decided that they must continue, because the rain would cause everyone, including their victim, to sleep very soundly tonight. People think that they are safe and protected inside their residences, but it was people like him and Malati who showed them they aren’t safe anywhere.


Joker considers himself the leader, because he is the oldest and spent about a year in jail already. Malati is only seventeen years old and except for the usually running away from the police on a Friday night, while gambling on a street corner, he didn’t have so much experience or brushes with the law. So Joker worked out the plans and gave the instructions and Malati just followed.


Joker had been breaking into houses since he was about ten years old and he considered himself an expert. He was only caught once and that was the one he got the jail sentence for. He is determined never to be caught again, because he will NEVER go back to jail again. The prison gangs he met during his stay in Pollsmor were the worst animals he ever met and he never wants to come near any of them ever again. The gangs on the outside was like gentlemen in comparison to the prison gangs who were worse than wild animals.


But housebreaking and committing crime in general is in his blood and there is no way that he can stop that. He grew up in the townships of the Cape Flats and crime is all he knows. But he makes sure that he goes for easy targets and see to it that he limits violence against his victims to the minimum. That is why he chooses housebreaking, because contact with the victim is limited and if one plans carefully virtually nil.


Malati, on the other hand, haven’t actually decided what he wanted to do with his life yet. There is no money for education and he worked in a factory once, but really hated it. Crime wasn’t as easy as many people made it out to be, but the earnings were good if one did the right jobs and had the right contacts. He must still make up his mind between becoming a drug dealer or a housebreaker. Malati likes to hang out with Joker and actually looks up to him a bit. Joker is a very good planner and his campaigns are usually successful with minimum problems afterwards, because they don’t leave any clues for the police to follow up on.


Tonight’s job is supposed to be very easy, because it is an old man’s house they were going to burglarise. He lived alone and there were no dogs or alarms protecting the house. Easier than that you don’t get in their profession.


Since the previous year they have been watching the old man, moving into that house on the corner of Addax Crescent and Blossom Street. He took about three months to renovate the house to his specifications before he started furnishing it.


He seemed to prefer his own company and didn’t seem to have too many friends visiting him. As a matter of fact, they never saw anyone visiting him. Why, most of his friends must have been dead already. The strange thing was that although one could see that he was very old, he wasn’t exactly behaving like an old man. He seemed to be very fit and active.


In the mornings he would take a leisurely stroll to the corner café, where he would buy the Argus and a liter of milk and then he would walk back home. Sometimes he would drink tea on his stoep or otherwise work in the garden. Sometimes, in the late afternoon, he would pull out his black Mercedes and slowly drive towards Klipfontein Road. Where he went at times like these, no one knows.


At times when he went out with the Mercedes, he would never return later than ten o’ clock. Then he would usually have a big box that he took out of the trunk of the Mercedes, before he moved it back into the garage.


Like this the two of them watched the old man for about a month now and were sure they knew his every move.


The lights in his house would usually go out by twelve so they assume that this is the time that the old man went to bed in the evenings.


So the time now is half past one and they are the sure the old man is fast asleep.


They made sure that there are no alarms or any automatic lights and can leisurely enter the yard, by simply walking in by the front gate.


The rain pours down on them and the wind scream around the corners, but they know by tomorrow this time they will have enough money to make this whole adventure worth it.


They quickly walk to the back of the house where they know they will be hidden by the high wall and trees that are there, thus they won’t be seen from the street. Not that anyone would be out on a night like this, but Joker likes to be sure.


Joker take out his glass-cutter and quickly cut a nice circle in the window glass near the handle. He put his hand through this hole and simply open the window. Both wait in suspension as he slowly opens the window to make sure no alarm goes off. Both are ready to jump over the wall and run if this happens, but it doesn’t.


So within seconds both are inside the house and they close the window behind them, giving their eyes a change to get use to the denser darkness of the inside of the house.


The house seems to isolate them from the terrible storm outside.


The house is less than forty square meters, but now that they are inside the house it seems to be much bigger. Joker assumes that it is the darkness – that seems to cling like a sickness on the inside of the house – that makes it seem bigger.


They switch on their small torches.


The kitchen opens out into the passage where one must turn left to get to the old man’s room. If one walks straight over the passage from the kitchen one enters the medium sized lounge. If one turns right, one will enter the small room that the old man use as a study.


All this information was gained from Malati’s aunt, who works for the old man once a week. Malati is a Sotho, but grew up in the coloured townships. Although he can speak Sotho and Xhosa fluently, he is culturally a coloured. His aunt lives in Gugulethu and he simply offered her money to get the information from her.


Joker had decided that before they do anything else, they must first get the old man. They must at least tie him up, so that they can steal whatever is of value in the house at their own time. He has no intention of hurting the old man in any way, unless really necessary.


“You said his room is to the left, down the passage, nuh” he whispers to Malati.


“To the left, yes.” Malati answers while pointing with the light of his torch.


“Don’t do that, somebody can see it from the street…Hold the light down to the floor.” he urgently whispers to Malati while forcing the torch down.


It is strange, but their whispers doesn’t sound as if they are in a smallish council house. The way their whispers echo from the walls it sound more as if they are in an immense cathedral or a very huge cave.


As they enter the passage from the kitchen they look down the passage and see the two doors exactly as describe by Patience.


The first door is the door to the bathroom, while the last one is the bedroom door. It is less than two meters to the bedroom door, which is slightly ajar.


“You wait here until I call you.” Joker instructs Malati and then he quietly walks towards the old man’s bedroom. This should take him about five seconds, but after two minutes he is still not near the bedroom door.


The real shock hits him when he looks back at Malati at the kitchen entrance. It seems as if Malati is a kilometre away from him. It simply can’t be, but the passage looks like a long shiny, black road lying behind him.


He looks back towards the bedroom door and see how close it is to him and he walks towards it, but once again he can’t reach it. No matter how much he walks towards the bedroom door, it is always the same distance from him and he can’t get any closer


“Shit.” he says under his breath. He is sure this is because of the witpyp he smoked earlier the evening.


He turns around and walks back and sees that he is very close to Malati. It takes him five steps to reach the kitchen.


“What did you do?” Malati queries him in his normal voice.


“Shh…” he stops him. “Whisper, I didn’t get to the old man. Could you see me?”


“What do you mean, could I see you? I saw you until you disappeared in the darkness.”


Hearing those words, suddenly make Joker realize why the old man doesn’t need dogs or alarms or automatic lights, while all the people around him live in virtual self-made jails to protect themselves. He had all the protection he would ever need. He heard of people like this, but never experienced it himself. He feels the cold rings running down his spine as his hair starts to rise in the back of his neck.


“Shit, man, let’s get out of this house. It’s enchanted…” Joker says as he immediately moves towards the window where they entered.


“What?” Malati asks as he unwillingly follows.


“Let’s just get out of here…I’ll tell you later… Come on…”


Joker walks towards the window where they came in. It will be easy just to open it and then climb out. Once he is out of this house he will run like he never ran before. There will be no further break-ins tonight. The rain-storm should have been enough to tell him not to go on with his plan to steal from the old man. He should have expected something like this.


And another thing, he should have been at the window already. He stops so abruptly that Malati walks full speed into him.


“What kind, my broe?” Malati asks


“Where’s the window?” He makes way so that Malati can see.


“Shit, the window should be there, we climbed through it a few minutes ago.”


“Can you see now what I mean when I say this place is enchanted?”


Where the window was before there is only a solid wall now with two paintings which looks down at them like two huge ghouls.


And the room is much bigger than before now and it is definitely not a kitchen. It looks more like the sacrificial chamber of an evil temple, but they can’t be sure in the sparse light.


Both turn around now and rush towards the passage as panic sets in.


They are street-criminals and this is not something they have been trained or prepared for. They have heard of stuff like this, but never experienced it themselves. And it is something they definitely never want to experience again, ever…


Joker thinks if they can reach the office they can simply break a window there and get away from this evil house. He will never even walk past this house in the daylight hours, much less being trapped here on a stormy night.


As they exit the kitchen into what they think is the passage, they suddenly find themselves inside the cellar of the house.


“Sheet, man, I didn’t know this place had a cellar. Did your aunt say anything about a cellar?”


“No, she didn’t, but maybe she just didn’t know about it. Maybe the old man never told her about it.”


“But how did we get here so quickly? LOOK.” Joker screams out in mid-sentence.


He points towards the left-hand corner of the cellar. It is stacked with lots and lots of golden ornaments. There are chandeliers, vases, oil lamps, kettles, drinking goblets, cutlery, etc. All made of the same shiny gold. This must be the stuff the old man usually brought home in the boxes. Although the cellar is lit only by a dullish blue light, it is enough to make all that gold glitter. To tell the truth it seems as if the gold has its own light giving source. This is how Ali Baba must have felt inside the robbers’ cave.


“God, man, look at this…” Malati shouts as he walks towards the gold and looks down.


“Only two of these pieces will make us millionaires, man.” Joker echoes his thoughts. “The old man doesn’t need all this…”


“There are so many, he won’t even miss it if we take some of it.”


He reaches out with his hand to just touch one piece of the gold.




…the light go out so suddenly, he nearly pisses himself from shock. With the light out there is only inky blackness inside the cellar and it is darker than the darkest night.



Joker just grabs something and start running towards the stairs that they came down into the cellar with.


From the corner where the gold was he now hears a deep, very loud growl. A type of growl he never heard before, because it doesn’t sound like any animal he knows. That growl couldn’t have come from any animal. At least not an animal of this earth.


This thought makes him run even faster. He hears and feel Malati close to him


As they reach the top of the stairs he can hear that whatever growled is following them up the stairs. They keep on running and is suddenly outside in the rain storm.


“Run…” he screams to Malati as he makes his legs pump as fast as he can.


He still has, whatever it is he grabbed in that cellar, in his hand and he holds onto it. At least he has something for all their trouble.


Then he hears the deep growl close to his neck and then all lights go out for him.


As Joker falls into the darkness, he can feel that whatever he is holding in his hand is getting hotter as if a fire is burning on its insides.



The next morning the sun comes up over a cleanly washed landscape. Everything smells of fresh damp soil and moist grass. Some new plants and flowers are showing their fresh faces to the world.


On the field near Vanguard Express Drive some early morning workers find the stiff, very death bodies of Joker and Malati.


The police find that there are no marks or open wounds on any of the two bodies.


Later the pathologist will find no unnatural cause for the death of the two skollies. He fills in his form and where it says: CAUSE Of DEATH, the pathologist fills in: NATURAL.


The only further official investigation into this matter is the big black book that Joker held so tightly in his hand when his body was found. He had such a tight grip on the book that his hand had to be broken in order to get the book out of its grip.

When Inspector Matanjana discovered that it was something useless – or at least something that he considered useless – that he couldn’t sell to someone, he simply handed it in to his commander.


And this is where the whole story of the Black Book really starts.


If I were you, my dear reader, I would stop reading right now…


Dr Frank Pane


Frank Pane committed his first murder when he was only nine years old.


It was his little friend, Penelope or Penny like he called her, who was his very first victim. The two of them grew up as neighbors and have been playing together since they were babies. They were born only weeks apart and their parents always joked and said they were going to get married one day.


One day they were playing in the woods, close to where they lived, and Frank simply hit her with a piece of wood at the back of her neck. The blow was so severe that her neck broke and she was dead instantly. As her body was still falling down towards the ground and even when it lay on the ground, he was continuously hitting her with the piece of wood until her little body was broken and bloodied.


He could never explain why he killed Penny so brutally. Not even to himself. At that moment he felt this rage burning inside him and killing Penny just seemed like the right thing to do.


Even at that young age he was a genius and he hid that body so well, that it never was discovered. Nobody ever suspected him.


Everyone thought she was kidnapped and her photo was posted everywhere, in all the newspapers and on television. A national campaign was started to get her back. Tearful calls by her parents were made to her “kidnappers” to bring her back, but to no avail. A few months later her mother went insane. Her father ended up as a homeless alcoholic after a few fruitless years of searching for his daughter.


This was the type of destruction that Frank Pane lived for and his first murder showed him how he could destroy – with but a single act – more than his victim.


When he received his first bachelor degree at the age of twenty he had already committed thirteen cruel murders. He was never satisfied with just killing his victim. He made sure the victim suffered. Penny was his only victim who died instantly, he made sure all the others took a long time to die.


As he studied medical theories and learned everything there was to know about the human body, he could keep his victim conscious and alive under the most painful circumstances.


Everybody thought he would become a medical doctor, but he never completed his medical studies. He rather changed his studies to Literacy and became an expert on books and the contents of books.


His close friends – of which he had many – would never have guessed it, but he had already started practicing the dark arts while still in high school and as he progressed in rare books, he found out that he was doing exactly what the great magicians and Christians priests would do in the middle ages; pretending to be good, but being evil to the extreme. Appearing to the world as an angel of the light, but in truth being an angel of darkness and pain.


Exactly like the Bible says: And no marvel; for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light.


So he became an expert on rare books. Finding these rare books, reading them, translating them, brought him onto a new level of understanding. These rare books were the actual thoughts of those who existed long ago. He could feel how the darkness of ignorance inside him changed into the light of noesis bit by bit.


He now knew that darkness and evil is the ultimate goal, the highest goal that anyone could achieve and that those who strive for darkness must do everything in their power to extinguish the light.


What he liked the most about these rare books was the way it taught him how to make the deadliest, most untraceable poisons. Or show him the cruellest methods of torture that he wouldn’t have been able to work out on his own.


With his education, training, knowledge and experience he became seen as an expert on rare books; Dr Frank Pane.

To the world he was a mild, soft spoken, bespectacled professor on rare books.


No one would ever imagine in his wildest dreams who the real Dr Frank Pane was.


That is why detective Fuzani, Superintendent in the South African Police Service, came to Dr Frank Pane the Tuesday evening to bring him the book.


Fuzani wasn’t so much interested in the case or the book itself. For him it was just a matter of the monetary value of the book.


The book was officially an exhibit, but there was no crime to investigate. No one came forward to claim the book, so it wouldn’t matter if he made a little money from it now, would it? This corruptness was just the nature of the South African Police Service.


If he could get money for the book, any money for the book, he would be satisfied.


“Hello, Doctor, so good that you could see me.” the potbellied black policeman smiles with his white teeth, as he sits down in the big leather chair in Frank Pane’s huge office at his house.


“I will always make time for the police, Superintendent. Where would we be without you?” Dr Frank Pane laughs as he points with his open arms.


Fuzani puts the package he has in his hands on the desk in front of him. He opens up the brown paper in which it is wrapped and shows the doctor the book.


“We found this book with two dead men a few weeks ago, and I brought it to you, because we can’t figure out in which language it is written or what exactly it is. It also seems to be very old.” the corrupt policeman says as his eyes shine with greed.


Frank Pane picks up the book out of the brown paper and feels the rich warmth of the cover. It feels like pure parchment. He carefully opens the book and is immediately caught by the old smell of the pages, the material of which he will still have to determine, but which he can tell already now, is definitely not paper.


He reads the first word, then the second word, then the third word and then he feels his brain swimming. He becomes drunk with joy as…


He nearly falls from his chair and has to concentrate hard not to show the Black in front of him how excited he is about the book.


The book is written in the very ancient Akkadian language. This is a language that very few people in the world can read, but which Dr Pane, as an expert on rare books, knows very well.


The words says in the Akkadian language: BLACK BOOK OF THE EAST. If this is the original Black Book of the East, he is holding one of the rarest books EVER PRODUCED in his hand.


“Superintendent, I really can’t say, but I will study this book tonight and I will give you a call tomorrow. If I can keep it that is?” he says as he looks at the superintendant. He knows that if the policeman should refuse to leave the book with him, he will murder him right here in his office.


“I will hear from you tomorrow, then.” he detective says as he gets up. Dr Pane accompanies him to the door and waits until the police car is out his gate before rushing back into the house to feel the warmness of the Black Book of the East again.


Pane knows that it is purported that the Black Book of the East has been written by the French sorcerer, Michel De Bodelier in the fourth century after Christ.


De Bodelier was an advisor to the Roman Emperor Constantine.


There are unconfirmed rumors that Constantine was never without the Black Book of the East and would even have taken it into battle with him if it wasn’t so big.


The greatest concept about The Black Book of the East is that no one could say exactly what the contents of The Black Book were. The Black Book was mentioned in many other books that was written afterwards, but not one is clear of exactly what it contained. There were many guesses, but as soon as someone got the chance to read The Black Book, they would lock up about its contents and would refuse to tell anyone else what the contents were.


And now he had The Black Book in his hand. He now had one of the greatest mysteries of ancient times in his very own hands. He brings his reading lamp closer to the book, smelling that old book smell that he loves so much and starts reading the first page.


As the Akkadian words enters his brain, it is as if it opens up like a flower. Inside his brain the ancient, forbidden language is instantly changed into his native English.


As he opens the second page he sees that it is filled with nonsense, as the first page said it would be. Luckily it also tells him what he has to do to read the rest of the book.


But what he knows now is that this is indeed THE BLACK BOOK OF THE EAST, because only the genuine Black Book has a ritual that has to be performed, before it can be read.



The next evening Fuzani arrives half an hour late for their appointment. He phoned the Black earlier that day and told him to come see him that evening about the book.


‘Typical Black’, Pane thinks to himself, ‘that has no respect for time.’, as he warmly invites the policeman into his house.


He pours the detective a sherry as they sit down in his gigantic lounge with the antique furniture. He never allowed the policeman in here before, but tonight he has plans for him. Almost like the condemned man who can order anything that he wants to eat before his execution.


“Can you tell us something about that book, Dr Pane.” the policeman asks. “Does it have any value?”


Typical greedy, more concerned about the monetary value of the book, than what it actually contains.


“Superintendent, this is one of the rarest books on earth. I really don’t know if it has a monetary value, but if it does it will be sky high and make anyone who sells it an instant millionaire. There are super rich book collectors who will sell their soul for this book.” he sees how the Black’s eyes lit up as he hears these words. He can see how the greedy mind is already working out where to find a seller and what he is going to do with the money.


“The real value of the book, though, lies in what it can offer us…What it can offer the world through its contents.”


Frank Pane knows the detective is not interested in stuff like that.


He can also see the policeman’s eyes getting heavy as he struggles to hold the glass steady.


“Wha…I suddenly feel so tired…” the detective says as he yawns. Fuzani forces himself to sit back up straight in the chair. “So the book has real value, you say, doctor?”


“Yes, but you see, detective, I will have to perform a ritual to unlock what the book has to offer us. The book was written by a sorcerer by the name of Michel De Bodelier. There are those who claim that De Bodelier put his own soul into the book and it can only be read if the necessary rituals have been performed.”


“You mean a ritual like slaughtering a cow?” the Black asks as his eyelids feel very heavy and it can be seen that he struggles to concentrate as he takes the last sip of the sweet sherry.


“Yes, something like that.” the doctor says as he gets up and takes the glass from the detective’s hand just as the detective slumps forward. Out for the count.


A little bit of Kalyalm powder was all he needed to put the Black to sleep within five minutes.


Pane stands behind the chair and press a button.


There is a soft whirr as the chair slides down to the basement.


In the huge basement Pane does the necessary with the detective to prepare him for the ritual. It is not pleasant work, but has to be done.


When he wakes up, Fuzani finds himself in a sea of incredible pain. All his muscles had been severed, except for those from his head upwards. He can only watch what is about to happen to him, because all his limbs had been rendered completely useless, by severing the muscles that powers them.


And the irony is that he really needs to scream, just to get a little relieve from the pain, but he can’t, because his mouth is filled with a bunch of papers. If he could, he would have seen that Pane put some fifty two hundred rand notes in his mouth. Now he has such a lot of money in his greedy mouth, but he would love to have it out so that he can scream out to the world that he is in a sea of pain and this evil doctor is going to kill him.


“Yes, my little picanini. This is your last hour on earth. I guarantee you will hate it, but it is something that has to be done, if I want to read what is written in this book.” Pane tells him.


Dr Pane is now dressed in tight fitting black clothes.


“You see, this is something your primitive brain will not be able to comprehend, but I am going to tell you anyway. This book is called THE BLACK BOOK OF THE EAST. It is one of the most sought after books ever. It was written by a great sorcerer in the fourth century. It is speculated that the secrets to the greatest and most ambitious magic spells are given in this book. Now the thing is that De Bodelier made a mistake and his soul got trapped in this book. And this is where you, my little half-wit is coming into the picture.”


The Black policeman can only watch as Pane takes out a long, thin but very sharp knife from a cabinet.


“It is said that the soul of the magician only allows the reader to read page one where the instructions are. If you want to read the rest of the book, the ritual must first be performed to satisfy the soul of De Bodelier.”


He brings the knife down onto the policeman’s throat.


“And unfortunately for you, the soul can only be satisfied by hot human blood.”


With this he pushes the sharp knife with force into the detective’s throat allowing blood to spurt out fresh and red all over the covers of the Black Book.


Pane watches with satisfaction as the blood is being absorbed by the unknown material of the cover. The blood flows freely over the cover and he can clearly see the cover drinking it in, like a man who didn’t have water for days and is trying to drink in everything with one gulp now. And then, just as suddenly, it is as if there never was any blood on the cover. The huge amount of blood that came from Fuzani, is now gone and absorbed by the book.


Dr Pane pushes a button on the machine where Fuzani is lying and pulls another lever. There is a loud whirring sound and then a loud chopping as the body is chopped up into little pieces. Tonight his dogs will have a nice fresh meal and afterwards there will be no trace of the detective.


The corrupt superintendent’s car will be found in a black squatter camp and with the quality of investigation that the police are known for, Pane knows that he will never even be suspected, because Fuzani was planning on selling the book to him, which meant that he kept his coming to him a secret and none of his colleagues know that he came to him. The chances are also good that the Blacks in the squatter camp will strip the car completely and that it never even will be found.


He is now the sole owner of The Black Book of the East.


And now with the ritual completed, Pane can go to his study and start reading The Black Book of the East.


He reads through the night and when he approaches the middle he realizes why nobody ever revealed what they read in the book.


It is too mind boggling, too blasphemous to ever reveal to the world.


Why, if this information should ever be revealed to the world, the whole population of the world itself may go insane. Chaos will reign.


He reads to the last page and feel the blood draining from his brain. He himself regrets it now that he ever put his eyes on this sacrilegious tome…


If he had the power, he would really tear what he just read from his brain, however painful it might be.


He now knows that this is a book that should never have been written, a book that should never be read…



History of the Black Book


Very few people even know of the existence of The Black Book of the East. Those who know of The Black Book is either an adept, or very close to being a fully fledge sorcerer. The other thing is that everybody who knows of the Black Book, would rather not read it or even be in possession of it.


Even Frank Pane, who considers himself evil itself, regrets that he ever laid his eyes on this blasphemous book and having now the unholy knowledge that this evil book contains. The knowledge that he gained from this tome can NEVER be removed from his memory, ever.


It is said that it took Michel De Bodelier a few years to work out the contents of the Black Book. Then he had to gather his research and then he wrote it all down by hand in the book, which he also bound himself. The pages and the cover was also made by De Bodelier himself. There are many who said that he came to love the physical book itself so much and that is the reason why he put his very soul into the book. This fact, doesn’t exclude other, more sinister, reasons.


The legend goes that what is written in the Black Book is not De Bodeliers’ own ideas, but something he copied from a much earlier version, which dated back to the time of Christ. This, though, is only conjecture and no-one is really sure about it. No one can tell what the original book was which he copied, or where he got his other research from.

That is the thing about The Black Book of the East, it is hidden in a grey mist of conjecture.


To tell the truth, never in the history of the world was there a book that was surrounded by so much supposition and speculation.


De Bodelier chose to write The Black Book in Akkadian, because it is a dead language, and very few people would be able to read or translate it. Writing it in Akkadian would also make it very difficult to be translated, even if the reader was conversant with Akkadian. This is prove to many purists that De Bodelier didn’t want the book to be read, because he knew that only a few people would be able to read the language.


Why anyone would write a book that he didn’t want people to read is anybody’s guess. Isn’t that exactly the reason why someone write a book? To convey his ideas to other people and the rest of the world?


Michel De Bodelier was one of the few people whom the great Emperor Constantine consulted on various matters of state.


As everybody knows, Constantine was the Emperor who made the Christian religion legal in the Roman Empire.


This act alone instantly made him very unpopular with various groups.


The strangest thing was that Constantine himself was a very loyal worshipper of the sungod, Sol Invictus, and why he would allow such an extreme and totally evil religion as Christianity to gain a foothold and later take over the world is anybody’s guess.


It is not known if Constantine read The Black Book before he made this decree, but it is said that once Constantine read the Black Book of the East, he always had it with him. There are those who claim that he would have gone into battle with the tome, if it wasn’t so big and heavy. It was in any case always in his official tent whenever he was on the battle field.


There are some who believed the emperor gained some power from the book, but what exactly this power was, no one can say.


People of his time and historians, who made a study of the life of Constantine, claim that Constantine changed completely after his first reading of the accursed book. His sunny disposition changed into a dour, unfriendly, merciless man, who would later claim that his sungod, Sol Invictus, showed him a cross over the sun and the words: in hoc signo vinces, which is translated as: in this sign you will be the victor.


When the Emperor died the book went back to De Bodelier. The historians claim that De Bodelier made some further inscriptions in the book and added more pages, a lot of which he left blank. They say that this was for the specific goal that others must add to the Black Book, as he didn’t have the rest of the information that was needed to complete it.


People also claimed that the longer De Bodelier was in possession of the book, the more he too changed.


He became irritable and angered very easily. His eyes became bloodshot and it seemed that he didn’t sleep enough, because he also got black bags under his eyes. Sometimes he would go for days without eating or washing himself and could be seen wandering up and down in his study room.


Then he did the ritual that lasted about three weeks in his cellar. The trap door was kept locked and no one else was allowed in. People heard lots of screams, the playing of an unknown instrument and chanting. When they heard nothing for a few days, some courageous souls decided to break open the trap door and enter the forbidden place to see what was going on.


They found De Bodelier dead on the floor. The Black Book of the East was lying on the table opposite him. Some claim that it seemed as if the book had a satisfied expression on its cover, if that is even possible.

It was here that the claim came in that De Bodelier had done certain spells to trap his very soul in the Black Book.


No one knows if this is true, but the fact is that the book can’t be read further than page one, except if the blood of a tortured human is poured onto it. One can open any page of the book and there will just be nonsense written there of which no one can make sense. Once the blood is poured on the book, it can be read like a normal book, IF the word normal could ever be used in the same sentence as The Black Book of the East.


To this fact Frank Pane is a witness and he knows it is so.


No one can really say what happened to the Black Book after De Bodelier’s funeral.


Through the years it made an appearance here and there and then disappeared again as if it never existed. If it wasn’t mentioned in so many scripts of those years, people wouldn’t even have known of its existence.


There are those who said The Black Book sometimes found a home with a great wizard who made his own annotation to the script. Never chancing it, mind you, just adding to it. That was the reason for the blank pages that De Bodelier added. De Bodelier knew that he did all the research that he could do, but was sure there where things he didn’t find. He added the blank pages, hoping that others would be able to fill in the blank spots that he couldn’t find through his own research. And they did and the blank spots were filled in.


It later seemed as if the book had a life of its own and that he went to exactly the right person at the right time.


The strange thing is that none of the other big books that mentions the Black Book of the East can say exactly what the contents of it is.


There was always speculation. Because it was written by a sorcerer and high priest of Sol Invictus everyone automatically assumed it contained different magic spells that magicians or priest had to use in the invocation of spiritual beings. Or spells that would allow people to gain great power or wealth.


Others said it was the real history and biography of Emperor Constantine.


Others said The Black Book proved that Christianity is just a cover for the worship of the sungod, Sol Invictus, and proves that the Bible is not the true word of God or his son Jesus Christ.


Then there was the school who said it was poetry and prose written by De Bodelier that was so beautiful that it could drive anyone mad by just reading it and that was the reason why he put his own soul into the book.


But what everyone agreed upon, was the fact that the tome was extremely dangerous.


Not only to read but even to possess.


How could the mere act of possessing The Black Book of the East be a danger in itself? No one could say, but that is what was whispered in the circle of those who knew of the existence of this tome.


This fact, if it was true, would not stop those really determined to possess the Black Book of the East, but at least it was a deterrent.


That is where the legend comes from that the spirit of the magician was in the book. To read beyond page one you first had to spill blood on the cover of the book.


Not any blood, human blood…And not just any human blood. It had to be the blood of a human who was in the process of being tortured to death or one who had been tortured to death.


Definitely not a book to be taken lightly. Definitely not a book for the inexperienced, as Detective Fuzani found out to his regret.


When the book disappeared in the fifteen century, after having been held by Leonardo Da Vinci, people said it was seized by the Catholic Church, because they considered its contents blasphemous, but at the same time saw it as important enough not to be destroyed.


Leonarda Da Vinci called it The Big Black Book from the Orient and made several notes about it in his famous notebooks, in which he wrote in a script that could only be read by holding it to a mirror.


Da Vinci mentioned that it was through The Black Book that he found out what was wrong with his original painting of The Last Supper and he thus destroyed it and painted a new one.


In his later notes, Da Vinci said that anyone who read The Black Book should tear their eyes out and jump from the highest and nearest cliff.

No official confirmation could be found that the Catholic Church ever held the book, but that is what is being said. It is general knowledge that the Catholic Church has a huge collection of what is seen as forbidden books. The Black Book of the East was one of them.


Many modern magicians have been looking for The Black Book of the East, and in their investigations they discovered that the late Pope John Paul II always had it with him. The same as Empereor Constantine The Black Book of the East always travelled with the Pope wherever he went.


Once again no one can confirm this and if it is true, no one can say why the Pope always had it with him. It is not even sure if the Pope could read the ancient language of Akkadian.


When the Pope died in 2005, the book disappeared once again. Anyone would think that when the Pope died, the book would have been taken back to the Vatican archives, if it is true that the Catholic Church has it.


But the book disappeared again and no one could even think where it could be.


That is until the two skollies stole it in the strange old man’s house and was found dead on the open field.

How The Black Book of the East ended up in a sub economic house in Silvertown on the Cape Flats is anybody’s guess.


Did the book itself cause the death of the two career criminals or what happened exactly?



The Secret of the Black Book of the East


The Black Book of the East is in reality the real Bible. NOT the ORIGINAL Bible, but the REAL one. Not an old- and New Testament, but the real word of God. The real book that was written by the very hand of God himself. This was the book written by God and of which people like Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses, etc. had copies and which they used to guide their lives.


But there came a time when God himself couldn’t continue writing in his book for humanity and other wise men added what was necessary for people to read.


There was since forever a debate amongst humans about the Bible and other holy books. There were those who said for example that the Bible that was used in the Christian churches were nothing but scripts written, edit and added by the Catholic Church and that those scripts had nothing to do with God’s message to humanity. This fact could be seen from the fact that more than half a million different Christian denomination were established, each one claiming to worship the REAL God.


The original and real writings of God is so different to the fairy-tale that Christians believe in, that it will simply boggle the mind of the normal citizen.


The scripts that have been added is so mind bendingly unreal that once it struck home it drives the most intelligent people completely insane.


Constantine established the Christian religion to keep his hand on the political power in the Roman Empire. Those he put in charge of the church organisation was the most evil, most ruthless people that could be found, because a whole continent had to be forced to accept this new religion in a very short time .


That is why Christianity was born in fire and blood and people were killed like it was going out of fashion. Those who were intelligent enough to know that this new religion was nonsense and just there to establish the power for certain people and organisations were killed off as witches and wizards. The Church wouldn’t have been able to touch real witches and wizards, because they were too powerful, but innocent people, who just spoke their mind was quickly killed off to be an example to others who even thought of rebelling against the newly established religion.


Constantine knew the power and importance of The Black Book of the East. That is why he had De Bodelier rewrite it in a dead language that very few people could read. The original was not destroyed and there is speculation that Constantine had it hidden away at one of the Poles, but no evidence of this was ever found. What is certain is that the original version is still on earth.


Once De Bodelier’s version was written Constantine kept it under his personal care. He wanted to make real sure that no one would ever lay their hands on The Black Book of the East, while he was still alive. And he never stopped worshipping the sun god, Sol Invictus.

He ordered the Church to have those who had any knowledge of The Black Book killed. When the Church was done with its campaign, there would from then on be only speculation about The Black Book, but no one would really know what was written in its sacred pages.


Constantine and the early Church fathers knew that as soon as someone found out the real message delivered by The Black Book of the East, the Church and the Emperor would have no more power, no matter how powerful they were. As long as people believed that Jesus was watching their every move and is going to send them to Hell if they rebel against the Church or doesn’t comply with the Church’s instruction, the Church was satisfied.


This also meant lots of free money and other property for doing no work at all. That is why the Catholic Church is the richest organisation in the world today.


The Black Book of the East, which was written by God himself, actually shows that God was the original rebel. He rebelled against the Elder Gods. The Elder Gods had established chaos as their base of existence. God, on the other hand, wanted order and serenity.


With the incredible power, all the gods had, God started establishing a complete Universe that was based on order. The Elder Gods fought this and brought chaos to the new Universe as far as they could. At the end God only had the earth left where there were still some semblance of order. He created a beautiful garden where serenity reign and which he protected in some way against the chaos of the Elder Gods.


God’s own vanity, however, led to his final destruction. He created angels, not because he needed them, because his own powers were vast, but because he needed beings to worship and praise him, for what he considered to be a great accomplishment. Unfortunately he made the angels indestructible.


The angles praised God as instructed, but two thirds of them immediately rebelled against God. The thing was that those angels had a certain defect in them. A defect that saw chaos as the greater good and the ultimate goal. This defect came from God himself, because he himself was part of the Elder Gods and a part of them was in him.


Although the rebel angels were in the majority, they couldn’t defeat God. Although they couldn’t be destroyed, God was still their creator, and the creator is always more powerful than the created. But they made contact with the even more powerful Elder Gods.


With all the powers of the Elder Gods concentrated in him for a time, the great god of light, Lucifer, was the one who finally defeated God. God was the one who fell like lightning from the sky, and not the devil, as the Bible claims.


God was banished to earth by the great seraphim, Satanus. The rest of the Universe was now theirs and they could establish chaos everywhere. They were not too concerned about earth, which is in a very remote corner of the Universe. The multiverse, including this Universe, belonged to them and they were satisfied.


On earth God became Melchizedek. He created man, and this time he made sure that men were destructible. He divided humans into two sexes so that the one couldn’t survive without the other. This helped him in his quest never to establish beings that is self-perpetuating ever again, but it created other problems.


God was planning on training humans to become very powerful beings that he could use at a later stage to reclaim his universe from the rebel angels. Once the humans had fulfilled their purpose he could simply destroy them. He still had part of the other one third angels who was on his side, but even their numbers where dwindling as they joined the chaos angels. The good angels were sent all over the world to teach men so that they could get their universal power.


These were men in white that is written about all over the world and who came to teach men science, philosophy, etc.


Unfortunately humans also had the chaos defect in them, because they were also related to the Elder Gods. There is no escaping chaos and it is the greatest force in the Universe.


Through the ages God moved around on earth, himself teaching people. He tried to tell them of the real power hidden deep inside them and which they can easily realise. He was always persecuted and chased away as the chaos nature of man got the upper hand.


In the Middle East he wanted to show humans his power by leading the Jews – a very small nation – into rebellion against the mighty Roman Empire. He wanted to use this to show humans where their real power lay.


The errand angels heard about this and they helped the Romans against him.


The angels then allowed the Romans to kill the avatar of God, then known as Yeshua Ben Yeshau or Jesus as he was later called, in the cruellest way.


God did have some children on earth, but they were a mixed breed, because he had to use humans to procreate. They were all daemons, meaning half god, half human. All of them are still wandering the earth, but they can never find rest and don’t actually have a purpose.

Some of these daemons also turned against him and actually created Christianity and other blasphemous religions that led the whole world astray and further away from the real message of God.


People could never understand why the Christian Church was since its inception one of the most evil organisations that ever existed. Its murder and rape statistics are overwhelming. That is because one of the sons of god – if it can be called that – was in charge of everything. Like his forebears his greatest calling was chaos. With the relative weak humans it was easy to get it and to still pretend to be from the light.


In the meantime God himself had gone completely mad. When his human body was killed by the Romans, he did try to flee to Europe, but was met by a great storm on the Mediterranean Sea.


Even a God can only take so much stress and this drove him over the edge and he became completely insane. Thus chaos was victorious once again.


The Elder Gods banished God to Limbo, where he still thinks of himself as being in control of a small group of humans. His once powerful mind completed messed up from trying to fight chaos.


So what people had to realise is that the God that created this dimension had good intentions, but he couldn’t escape from where he came from. His forebears where the original gods of chaos and they would never allow peace and tranquillity and order to reign where they had power.


He did put up great barriers to protect his creation from these god of chaos, but was defeated from within, because the beings he created also had the seeds of chaos in them. Not only the angels, but even the humans and animals he created ended in chaos at the end.


Everyone who fought chaos will lose, because chaos will rule supreme in the end.


With the only powerful protector gone the elder gods of chaos will return to this dimension and do what they do best.


With God out of the picture some of the angels took over the writing of The Black Book of the East. They added the parts to tell of chaos and what happened to God who tried to fight it.


And thus those who read the Black Book of the East and understand its implication is automatically recruited by the elder gods of chaos.


Their minds and souls are changed into pure chaos which they then love, but to those around them, they seem like mad people.


The more people know about The Black Book of the East, the more recruits there are for the elder gods. The more people realize that madness and chaos is the ultimate goal, the more the influence of The Black Book of the East will be established.


And once everyone has been infected, chaos will once again rule in all its glory in this dimension and all the spirits will return to the place where they belong.


Although this is considered to be bad or wrong, it is actually the natural state of everything and everyone that is why nature always return to chaos and why order has to be actually created. There is no escaping chaos. In humans chaos establish itself as madness. To those around the person it seems wrong and they considered it a sickness. The mad person himself embraces it and knows that those around him are actually the insane ones.


For example you must use energy to build a beautiful house that represents order. But over the years chaos will attack it and it will become dilapidated as time goes by until it will at the end simply collapse under its own weight and return to chaos.


No matter how much energy you spent or what you do, chaos will overcome everything in the end.



Dr Frank Pane’s revenge


Dr Frank Pane looks with satisfaction at the picture of himself next to the criticism of his published book in the newspaper. After reading The Black Book of the East he just knew that he had to share it with the whole world.


It being his nature, he knew he had to bring insanity and chaos upon the world. With the Black Book he had the ways and means to do exactly that. Why, with only one book, he could bring the whole world to its knees, a feat not even the greatest warriors in the world’s history could achieve.


He wasn’t known as a writer, but as an expert on books.


He wrote the Black Book of the East in plain English, with only the Akkadian words where it was needed for the change. Then he gave it away for free all over the Internet. He published it on every indie publishing site he could find. Then he also made it available on all the torrents and on all sites that gave eBooks away for free.


The Black Book burst forth through the establishment like a firestorm. It was downloaded all over the world. His book was soon on the top five list. It was on the lips of everyone and soon there were much speculation about the Black Book. Off course there were lots of critics, but they were the ones who made those, who would never even read his book, also buy and read it; if only out of curiosity.

He smiles as he looks at the newspaper, because now millions of people have read his story and many more millions will read it over the next few weeks.


That is all he needed; that people must read his work, the rest will be done by the gods of chaos.


Hank Tiller – one of the greatest comic writers who ever lived – even contacted him for the rights to bring the Black Book out in comic form. That means even more disciples.


Those who don’t read his book will be in the minority and will be simply killed off in the end.

He opens a printed copy of his book, which lies next to him on the sofa. He looks at the neatly printed title:



by Dr Frank Pane.


He pages through the book and smiles as he looks at the last few paragraphs:



And so my dear reader, you arrived at the end of this, the greatest story ever written. As I knew you would, you didn’t follow my advice to stop reading at the first chapter.


Now you have the forbidden knowledge -that you have always been protected against- firmly embedded in your memory.


You have this knowledge now irrevocably and no matter how you try to forget it, it will sit in the corner of your brain and it will fester until it bursts open and fills you with the madness that it was designed to create.


This lovely madness will take over your mind, your body and infect those around you. Those you love will be influenced the most and even they will succumb to that which must BE, namely pure chaos.


And this will be the catalyst for the masters of chaos who will enter your dimension and drive you completely over the edge of that which you have been born into. You will be driven to the dark and purple dimension where you really belong. To the dimension where your dreams have been taking you since you were a baby. A dimension you always tried to escape from, but could- and will never succeed in.

The dimension where you belong… where all of us belong.


You were born out of chaos and you will return to chaos.


But, don’t despair, you will enjoy it, because insanity is your natural state…



About the Author


Andre Beerwinkel was born and bred on the Cape Flats in South Africa. With the Cape Flats being one of the most exciting places on the planet he has written thousands of short stories as well as two complete novels about the area. When he is not behind his computer typing out a new story, he is probably out on his bike or busy building wooden furniture in the garage… Check him out at https://www.Shakespir.com/profile/view/AndreBW




Other books by this author

Shadow Chase


There are some parts of the Cape Flats that is hidden in shadow. The shadow of violence and corruption.

A dark shadow where only the strongest and fastest survive. 

This is where we meet Corita Jones. A criminal who operates in the under-world of the Flats.

After she mugged the Chinaman that Friday morning, she realizes that she might have bitten off more than she can chew.

What she unknowingly took from the Chinaman is highly explosive and suddenly every gangster on the Cape Flats is after her. The dreaded Technicians and Chinese assassins now take part in the chase and Corita’s world becomes hot with peril. She can expect no help from the corrupt police services or anyone in government. She is completely on her own.

Her pursuers soon learn, though, that she is not a kitten that can be handled without gloves. 

And who is the mysterious agent who now suddenly contacts her? Will she at last find out the truth behind her father’s murder those many years ago?

The Cape Flats explodes into violence and all out action as Corita flees before her pursuers to the only place of safety left in a corrupt country…



Check out this exciting story at https://www.Shakespir.com/books/view/545246



Connect with André Beerwinkel


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The Black Book of the East

They say that the Black Book of the East is a joint effort by the greatest wizard who ever lived and other wizards through the ages. They say whoever has the Black Book of the East and understands it, has power over life and death... They also say that the Black Book of the East has an unstoppable power over its readers. Want to take that chance? ...then read on and... Be brave.

  • ISBN: 9781311240415
  • Author: Andre Beerwinkel
  • Published: 2015-10-23 11:20:11
  • Words: 10787
The Black Book of the East The Black Book of the East