THE CHURCH ON THE EDGE OF THE FORBIDDEN ZONE... Alt title: THE SCORE? Christianity: Zero Child-Molestors: One

  The truth shall set you free. Here's the truth, the whole truth, & the truth to the best of my ability. It's about a little church in Bay City. I used to go there. I never had stellar attendance. I was the quiet kid & almost no one called me by name & addressed me by my nickname instead. "The Good Kid".

  Me? If some tried to inflict me with that nickname today I'd point to the Bible & say.

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  Matthew 19:17 King James Version (KJV):

17 And he said unto him, Why callest thou me good? there is none good but one, that is, God: but if thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments.

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  There is none good but God. But this is a true story of a child who answered to the name The Good Kid at the Church on the edge of the Forbidden Zone. Here goes...

  1st I thought I'd explain the name.  I used to live at 1269 Harrison St. in Bay City Michigan in 1970 when My Mother 1st allowed me to play outside unrestricted. She quickly set up a boundary of  a few blocks  that were my limits. Even a single footfall (literally) by myself & myself alone beyond meant instant & long lasting pain inflicted by her & everyone nearby at the time of the incident. The lines were from Harrison St., to 38th St. to Ingram St. Ingram being so I could travel daily to buy My Mother nearly the same thing every day. A pack of Pall Mall Gold & a single bottle of Pepsi Cola. I alone had to do this, My Mother told me long ago I had to go because The Guy I Think Society Will Call Serial Rapist would steal the money if he was tasked to get it & my other siblings were too young. If My Mother's Brother showed up, one of My Mother's boytoys, or a young gauntlet enthusiast caught her eye I'd have to go to the store again & get them cigarettes & a soda. If it was the former My Mother (Honor Honor Honor) nearly always made a point of telling me, rosey cheeks & all that I had to buy the gauntlet enthusiast a soda. "I want you to know it's with your child-support money".

  Usually I shrugged & I always obeys. If she pressed the subject of the Child-Support money I replied. "So what? I don't get none of it anyway".

  Rain, sleet, sun, blizzard, heat wave or shine I went almost every day & yeah, some of the bullies noted my regularity & I escaped many of them on my route. I went exclusively to a little store called Kramers South End Grocery on the corner of Ingram & 39th.

  Once My Cousin even asked me to notice that children & teens were beating me up & taking my money. He'd set it up & given My Mother orders to ruthlessly pound on me every time & ground me.

  I almost told him that they'd never gotten the money once from me, but I figured I'd best keep that information to myself. Through indirect questioning he told me that he'd caught some of the children lying about having beat me up & taken the money by asking them. "Okay. Show me the money". From his car. Disappointed he hadn't gotten to see the beat down because I'd run at the 1st sign of trouble. Indeed. I had an informal obstacle course that I lead pursuers down whenever possible. But that's a different story that I sent to the F.B.I.

  As time marched on a 7-11 store was opened nearby & since Kramers was closed 2 days a week My Mother began sending me to the 7-11, & expanded my limits to Broadway Street, Harrison St., & Cass Ave. but only so I could go daily to the store.

  I noted that the Church was on the edge of the Forbidden Zone & asked if I could go there. Why not? I was twice weekly going to 7-11 which was across the street. She agreed & I began to attend their AWANA Program.

  Yawn... I found the games boring, the kids to be brats, & their bible lessons to be weak & their mindless & endless bible verse memorizing to be tedious & boring. But I went, if only for the chance we'd get to sit upstairs on occasion & learn like the adults.

  I never made a single friend there. I'm not bitter, I accept my station in life. I was the quiet kid in the back who didn't talk much & fled every time a camera was drawn.

  They called me The Good Kid. Mothers asked me to watch their babies. I was entrusted with the small children & enjoyed talking philosophy & religion with the adults. Even I'll reluctantly admit that being called The Good Kid did come with a certain amount of privileges.

  Then in fall of 1976 The Gym happened. I was alarmed to say the least. I went straight to church & told them about my ongoing attempted murder.

  A few of the Elders said they'd talk to the school staff on my behalf.

  Soon... The Gym started to wind up & changed from just a dozen or so children trying to kill me with the gym Teacher's coaching & blessing to the entire class & an army of accomplices who were trying to make my death lo0k like a sports injury or just kids getting carried away.

  I went back to church & requested they go to the Bay City Police on my behalf.

  I also had a habit. When I begged for help I asked the people involved if they kept a diary & if they said yes I asked them to record all that I'd told them about my ongoing attempted murder... The Gym & many agreed. Many agreed.

  Snitch Girl came to me. She id the gang had followed me to the church &noticed I begged for help there. They were now sending gang members to spread gossip about me & told me it was their usual plan of attack. They always sent 20 members to rail on everyone they knew their victim interacted with as  a matter of business. Sadded that they'd send children to the AWANA to get me in trouble, to start fights, or even to beat me up. Preferably breaking a few bones to facilitate my demise in The Gym.

  Did they send a "gossip machine" to slander me?  Idano? All I know is when I got to church the Elders told me they'd received bad reports about me & that I was forbidden to attend AWANA.  Mothers shielded their children from me & people I'd only had pleasant conversations with now shunned me. Some even told me to leave the church... OR ELSE! I stuck to my story & convinced many people to go to the police on my behalf & many agreed to record it in their diaries too.

  The Gym was soon hot & heavy & the students & staff were openly engaged in my premeditated & rehearsed attempted-murder & by now I'd had a lot of close calls. So I turned to my church for aid yet again.

  When I got there new people attended. Men, 6' tall minimum & 250 lbs at the lightest, 7 in total were there to greet me. I ducked them & ran inside. Once there they formed lines in the narrow confines of the church & bodily wouldn't let me go here nor there. They were most interested in keeping me out of the basement & bodily forced me to sit in the back with the adults openly by forming lines shoulder to shoulder & telling me openly it was a fight if I so much as touched one of them. When I complained they complained I was too tough for any one or 2 men to deal with alone, so there were 7 of them. People of the church lifted eyebrows at this saying but soon told me, when I ducked guards so as to talk to people, that they'd heard I was very tough & the men were thus justified to have such force so as to protect themselves AND the congregation from me. The child they called "The Good Kid weeks ago. The kid who pointed out that the gossip crew the 1st week spun the tale that I was the school wimp & so of course what I was saying about the goings on in The Gym couldn't possibly be happening to me. "Last week you all agreed I was the biggest liar because I was such a wimp. Now it takes 7 men to defend against me"?

  I pointed out the men & that they were Devil-Worshipers & was surprised when the Elders told me they knew. That they'd had long discussions with the Devil-Worshipers & they'd said horrible things about me & they believed it all. So the men were there to stay.

  I was blown away by this. But 2 weeks ago I was the Good Kid. You're going to believe a bunch of Devil-worshipers over The good Kid?

  Yes... yes they were. "They gave us great gifts". A snowmobile. A boat, at reduced price, & other goodies when I asked in addition to little odds & ends gifts.  A big TV was named in the schwag. "I like them. They gave us great gifts". One said & the others nodded in approval.

  After a few weeks, & looking for any help from anywhere I noticed the teens the gang sent to beat me up in church there. The men bodily blocking me impeded them unwittingly, they made excellent human shields. Not my 1st human shields, and not my last either) & the Ushers always sent them to AWANA every time they tried to approach me. Why not the 7 men?

  An Usher told me they'd received orders not to impede the 7 men. They had no idea why & intended to obey. But they knew what the teens were up to & they had no orders to not stop them so they took steps to keep them away from me at AWANA (where my classmates bragged they inflicted horrors on the children & made friendships that would mark the prettiest children for rape now that they trusted them).

  When I noticed the Usher's actions I approached them & asked them for help & they declined. I told them I noticed they blocked the gang of teens from coming at me 

  In the coming weeks I figured it was just too dangerous to go to that church anymore. At least for a while.

  There's not much more to tell really. I have no intention of slandering anyone specific here so I'll just note the rest of the tale was sent in my 1,500 page letter to the F.B.I. where somebody dies every few pages in it.

  The Last Snitch bragged on the subject. Saying they'd recently gone to that church, prompted by my defense during their drugged fake trials (or whatever, possibly legal insanity it really was?). They'd asked everyone discreetly if they'd kept a diary or if anyone they knew did & seized them all. Then forced many to rewrite their diaries to exclude The Gym &armed many with a whole bunch of lies to ell any would-be investigators (as if their initial batch of lies wasn't enough?).

  Me? I ain't saying a single thing said by any Molester is true, that's a job the Bay City Law Enforcement Community has taken upon itself on their behalf.

  Me? With men bodily shunting me too & fro, devil-worshipers openly acting in the church, seething would-be attackers looking on me from a distance with clenched fists, a hostile church membership & the need to occasionally run out of the church at top speed to avoid angry Devil-Worshiping teens. I figured it was time to cut my loses & walk away from The Church on the Edge of the Forbidden Zone.

  Over the years I still went back now & again. I'll describe the visits as "Icy Cold".

  I never did make a single friend at The Church on the Edge of the Forbidden Zone & many times risked health & even life limb & my freedom to go there.

  In the end I just walked away. Sadly...                                                       Matthew 24:12 King James Version (KJV)

  This story is true to the best of my ability.                                        12 And because iniquity shall abound, the love of many shall wax cold.

  Sigh...

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THE HOLY OF HOLIES... Never believe a word a Child-Molestor says... EVER!

  Soooooooo... there I was. Minding my own beeswax when gun-pointing Dirty Cop himself does a felony arrest on me at gunpoint. Where? In Bay City but at the time of this writing I cant recall. Tagged & bagged I have fleeting recollections of being drugged by Duh Jerk & the team in the back on his marked squad car

  Who knows what happened.? Hours? Days? Weeks pass? It's hard to tell because of the drugs. You get injected & wake up a month later with minutes of memories of pure horror as your only recompense for the time they've stolen from you.

  Sooooo they drag me cuffed from the squad car. We were essentially in a big field field not far from a busy 2-lane road with occasional trees blocking the view of traffic between 2 tow-story cement(?) buildings. There were a couple of cars parked there which traveled up the single lane dirt driveway which the Jocks, Duh Jerk, Fagboy, Shortstuff, & Duh Weasel came in along with the marked Bac City Police patrol car of Dirty Cop himself. They being a team of half a dozen 18 year old Jocks & Duh Jerk & the 4 Stars. I am amazed when Duh Jerk dismisses Dirty Cop. "You don't want to see what's inside there".

  I take stock of the situation. We're in a lightly wooded area with low houses in the distance. The gang force me into the building on the left of the road building Duh Jerk informs me today is the day of my death. This was their killing ground. We went through an office with computers (more of a rarity back then in the 80s as opposed to nowadays) & down a hall. Through another door to a long hall lined with skeletons & skulls. In fact thick with them so that it was not possible to see the walls of the hallway. These wee in fact the gang's many, many victims.

  I'd heard about this building 1st from the children in my grade school class. The killing ground where the gang disposed of their victims & mounted their remains like trophies. Duh Jerk explained it petty much as they had. The gang kills people for fun, often. Then they bring the bodies here to be mounted as trophies. He showed me the "killing room". A 3-walled room with a 4th glass wall empty. They kept large insects (likely roaches of some sort, larger than a man's thumb & more shaped like trilobites than roaches) there that they said picked the bodies clean, leaving only the bones. Duh Jerk & his stars claimed the 4 or 5 guys there mounted the bodies in their ever-expanding underground halls they were digging where the remains of their many victims of Bay City & Saginaw County victims lay. Expanding the halls only as they became too choked to travel because of the increasing number of mounted skeletons.

  Duh Jerk went on to describe it as did the others after before & after him. The gang has many enemies. Working with the Doctors of the Bunga Bunga Hospital & local Funeral Parlors as victims grow old & feeble. Likely from being slowly whittled away in surgical attacks like I am their death eventually draws near. The Bunga Bunga Hospital drugs victims to make them seem ever more feeble, then sickly, & then after tear-filled moments choreographed to perfection (through repetition) the subject is drugged with a drug that puts them in a near-death state. The funeral is held, the subject seemingly buried but frankly who checks the casket at the end? Sometimes they just wait for the family to leave & lift the body out of the casket. Then the victim wakes up in the killing room. Thee they will die an agonizing death & their remains are picked clean to remove any evidence & then mounted as a trophy. He claimed the people bringing in the victim are not permitted to watch the murder for a variety of reason, formost being they would have deniability as to the exact murder of their delivered victim. But Duh Jerk said they could trust that their victim died horribly & later visit their remains as often as desired. When we chatted he said it was why he'd dismissed Dirty Cop. He didn't know about the contents of the building & he felt it was best he not know.

  Duh Jerk promised me then & there that he intended to set up a chair & there visit my remeains in the hallway & even to have discussions with what was left of me as a trophy because of... wait for it... wait... wait... wait for it... because of "The Gym".

  They mocked me & laughed when they said that now it was my turn to die slowly in their execution chamber. Laughing Jerk and the Stars bid me a final sarcastic goodbye. Smiling and waving. "See you later! Oh! I guess we will not be seeing you later! HA! HA"! Being among the many taunts. Then they left.

  Me? I watched for any chance to escape.

  It gets fuzzy... but I slipped a cuff. The fight was on against myself & the 5 Jocks & I positioned myself & the fight so that the only door which only opened inwards was to my back. There were no weapons. Nothing that could be used as an improvised weapon. Everything was bolted down securely. Everything.  Even the chairs, the table, the aquariums that housed a bazillion bugs, & the computer (bolted to the table with a thick bar & a wire mesh screen coving it save for the keyboard which was merely bolted to the table), everything was firmly bolted down. Firmly. Bolted down. Immovable.

  Describe the knock down dragg'em out fight? Okay. We fought. We fought & we fought. I won. It wasn't easy.

  Me? I recalled the US Military Survival in a P.O.W. Camp says to escape as soon as possible has the best chances of success. Disappointed that there was nothing I could take as an improvised weapon I left. As I retraced my path one of the Jocks woke & started yelling!

  Me? I ran to the guard room & yelled something like. "The guy's escaping! Go back there & HELP THEM"! The team of Jocks guarding the door to the outside  ran past me & down the hall & I figured I had to act fast to escape.

  2 guards were in the entrance & they demanded to know what was going on. I told them that 'the guy escaped' & beat up or killed almost everyone. When I walked to the door one barked. "You cant leave! It's not allowed"! I could hear the many Jocks yelling behind me to stop me garbled by the hallway's echo's and the fact there were many of them yelling. Between the echoes & the distance involved I'm not entirely sure what they yelled, but I have my guesses?

  Me? I told him I'd just seen so much death that I was going to be sick & I had to get some fresh air or I was going to throw up & he'd have to clean it up.

  He said. "If you get sick you're going to clean it up"! Authoritatively.

  I walked outside. Other than less cars than before it was the same. I figured if I ran out of there it could be a signal to any sniper to shoot me. So I walked away calmly & briskly as long as I dared & then ran for it. I was in the neighborhood of the local mall in Bay City off Center St. Very near where the Meijers store was on North Pine Road in the suburban neighborhood.

  I eluded what seemed to me like an intense Marked Car Bay City Police manhunt. I guess it only because of the sheer number of marked Police Cars in the area rushing too & fro with their sirens on at high speed with Uniformed Bay City Police inside them who were obviously looking for someone or something.

  Me? I approached a local business not far from the local Bunga Bunga Hospital & convinced them that I was just some guy who was on his way to the Hospital to get a set of handcuffs removed & asked them to be good Samaritans & spare me the large expense the Bunga Bunga Hospital would surely inflict on me if I had to go there to get the cuffs removed. Then after a hearty thanks during which I noticed the... cops seemed to give up their manhunt I went home.

  An obligatory "snitch" was sent tp me later. He said no one had ever escaped the killing room, no one had ever lived to tell it's secret & the Bosses were impressed. He said that in the history of the killing rooms like that that the gang used only a handful of victims had ever escaped once they were delivered to the room. The gang were thrown for a loop, not sure what to do with me next, but rest assured they'd think of something soon enough? The many Jocks were all going to pay for letting me escape to tell of their "Holy of Holies". Much death & horror. There's was a sacred duty & they failed. He said I'd gotten lucky at the end & even asked why I'd chosen to walk out & not run? There were snipers outside with orders to shoot anyone escaping or even if someone there were to run for any reason whatsoever, such was the security at their killing site. "They have orders to shoot anyone who comes running out of that building". "They had orders to shoot anyone who came out of that building without being cleared to leave". The snipers had admitted they were complacent in their jobs & thought nothing of when I walked out. They too were going to pay for their failure.

  My knowing where the Holy of Holies was meaningless. They were going to buy it all (all the housing in the area) & re-dig another entrance far away. Of course, to add to the miles of tunnels already there that they planned to one day fill.  I could likely soon expect another kidnapping where they'll question me to find out who all I told about this.

  Me? I told'em I'd told no one. When he said he didn't buy it I said when are you guys going to start trusting me? There's only one professional lying cheating baby-killing rapist in the conversation & it wasn't me.

  Let me reality check the above. It was the obligatory snitch who said miles of tunnels. Me? I said I didn't buy it one bit. I probably saw maybe 20 yards of skeleton tunnels at best. He clarified & said the skeleton tunnels were only 100 or 200 yards tops (in the 80s). "We just started them" . He said defensively. He said when he said miles he meant the gang's many tunnels dug under Bay City to facilitate crime, smuggling, rape, & recreational murder. A thing I'd heard as a child from my classmates. Though my former classmates told me that they were the old mine tunnels that ran under Bay City from way back when Bay City was a prosperous mining town. They added back then that the... cops would never believe anyone who dared repeat any of it based on how well law-enforcement had put motion sensors there while bragging that the gang had totally compromised them all & could freely travel the mines undetected.

  Decades later The Last Snitch congratulated me. In the history of their gang extremely few victims have ever escaped from their killing room. This act had thrown their Bosses for a loop. It's part of why they tried to recruit me one last time (for the record I'd refused... again).

  He said the tunnels were an important pat of the gang's operations. Facilitating escape & control. "The Cops don't know it but we've already dug into a lot of their homes". That it was common to arrange a great deal to entice... cops into moving into homes they've already built their access into. The same for their many enemies. He yelled at me over the many child-molesters he claimed I was responsible for hurting or killing & the massive list of those who he felt were hurt or died in punishments surrounding me. "I cant stand the casual way you & Jerk kill". He promised me death when all that Duh Jerk possessed fell to him because he was his partner in crime heir, once Duh Jerk passed on or retired.

  "Right now we're waiting for a vigilante cop to step forward. One always does. They'll be disgusted with the number of dead & approach us. We'll tell them we'll end the killing & the violence if they take you (the author) down".

  Me? I said. "You wont end the violence. I know that". "Will you end the violence"?

  He said. "Oh God no". But added moron... cops are groomed to trust the gang.  "They trust us".

  What's my opinion? My opinion is that I never believed a word that came out of any of their mouths & I recommend that Police & concerned citizens do so likewise. The End in this tale? It was the likely end of a lot of innocent people who probably had a short but precious time left on this earth. About a gang who institutionalized killing them for sport in the end. About a place where the souls of men flowed like water cascading into Hell. 

  Alone against an army with only mid-Michigan... cops to defend you? I wouldn't recommend it.