The Black Alchemist: A Terrifying True Story Read online

  ANDREW COLLINS

  Andrew Collins was born in 1957, and lives in Essex, England. He is a science and history writer, as well as the author of several bestselling books including From the Ashes of Angels (1996), which explores the human origins of angels and Watchers, and their role in the origins of civilisation; Gods of Eden (1998), which examines the greater antiquity of Egyptian civilisation; Gateway to Atlantis (2000), which locates Plato’s Atlantis in the Bahamas and Caribbean, Cuba in particular; The Cygnus Mystery (2006), which demonstrates that the Cygnus constellation was once seen as the origin point of the human soul and the gateway to the afterlife; Beneath the Pyramids, which details the author’s rediscovery of Giza’s lost cave world, and Göbekli Tepe: Genesis of the Gods (2014), which traces the origins of Göbekli Tepe in Turkey and its impact on myth, religion and the rise of civilization.

  Visit www.andrewcollins.com for more information on Andrew’s books, news and activities. Follow him also on Facebook and Twitter.

  The Black Alchemist

  By the Same Author

  THE SWORD AND THE STONE

  THE RUNNING WELL MYSTERY

  LONDON WALKABOUT

  THE KNIGHTS OF DANBURY

  THE BRENTFORD GRIFFIN

  THE SEVENTH SWORD

  THE CIRCLEMAKERS

  THE SECOND COMING

  ALIEN ENERGY

  FROM THE ASHES OF ANGELS

  GODS OF EDEN

  GATEWAY TO ATLANTIS

  TUTANKHAMUN: THE EXODUS CONSPIRACY TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY GRAIL

  THE CYGNUS MYSTERY

  THE NEW CIRCLEMAKERS

  BENEATH THE PYRAMIDS

  GÖBEKLI TEPE: GENESIS OF THE GODS

  The Black Alchemist

  Andrew Collins

  ABC BOOKS

  Leigh-on-Sea, UK

  The Black Alchemist

  © Andrew Collins

  First published 1988, ABC Books Revised Edition 2015, ABC Books

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. Andrew Collins’s right to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  Cover Art and Design: Rory Kee/Andrew Collins/Russell M. Hossain

  Interior Layout: Storm Constantine (www.immanion-press.com)

  Set in Georgia and Caslon Antique This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN 978-0-9558386-0-6 ABC Books, Leigh-on-Sea Essex

  UK

  www.andrewcollins.com

  Contents

  Prelude 11

  Part One—Black Portent 17

  1 The Stave of Nizar 19

  2Wilmington 27

  3 Ogmor the Guardian 33

  4 The Unintentional Quest 41

  5 The Stag’s Head 47

  6FirstMatter 53

  7TheHouse 59

  8 The Dome of Kent 67

  9IdeHill 77

  10 Shenfield Common 85

  11 The Green Dragon 93

  12 St Anne’s Castle 101

  Part Two—White 13 The Ring of Darkness 107

  14TheBlueLady 117

  15 The Downham Arms 127

  16TheBlackenedWell 137

  17 Nine Nights to Live 145

  18 Back to School 153

  19 Return to the Well 159

  20Danbury 173

  21 The Bloody Stave 179

  22 The Mystic’s Gift 183

  23 William’s Warning 189

  Part Three—Red 24 Night of the She-wolf 199

  25 The Dark Goddess 209

  26 The Body of Christ 219

  27 The Foul Virgin 223

  28 The Chaotic Gateway 231

  29 The Sister of Zosimos 237

  30 Trouble at the Tree 241

  31 The Flint Calling Card 245

  32 Maria’s Calling 255

  33TheGriffin 261

  34 The Heart of the Quest 267

  35 The Perfect Master 279

  36UnholyBirth 285

  37 The Ape Dagger 289

  38 The Sword of Dardanus 297

  39 The Net Closes 303

  40 The Summoning 309

  41Contact 319

  Part Four—Birth 42 Crossed Daggers 333

  438.8.8 337

  44ChildofFire 347

  45 A New Human Creature 353

  46 Paradise Drive 357

  47Resurgence 369

  NotesandReferences 375

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks go out to Greg and Lora Little, as well as Storm Constantine and Jim Hibbert of Immanion Press, for their help in the publication of this book; Rodney and Joan Hale, for their continued help and support; Richard Ward, for his valued intuition and editorial suggestions; Caroline Wise, for her memories and contributions; Mick Staley, for his help on book publication; Gordon Service, for extensive text suggestions; Paul Weston, for his recollections and advice; Danielle Lainton and Russell M. Hossain, for the cover changes; Peter Bently, for his professional editing and comments; Rory Kee, for the original cover artwork; Grover Schrayer, for the use of the picture of an ammonium dichromate crystal, and Cliff Martinez, for the original soundtrack of the film ‘Solaris’, which became my own soundtrack to this remastered edition of The Black Alchemist.

  Additional thanks go out to Debbie and Yvan Cartwright, Matt Kyd and Renny Djunaedi, Buster and Abbie Todd, Jay Druce, Catherine Hale, Graham Phillips, Carole Young, everyone at The Leigh Times, and Bernard G.’s widow and family. Over the years not only did Bernard produce some of the most incredible and innovative psychic material I have ever seen, but he was also a close and very important friend. May his soul finally rest in peace.

  Andrew Collins, 21st March, 2015. Picture credits: 31, G. Schrayer; 37 & 38, Brian Fenning/The Leigh Times; 43 & 44, Bob Ogley/Froglets Publications/The Sevenoaks Chronicle; 58, Eddie & Anne Clark. All other pictures copyright the author. The illustration of Ogmor, guardian of Burlough Castle, was drawn by an unknown artist. I therefore apologise for not crediting him, and will happily rectify this in future editions of this publication.

  Groups of mourners watched solemnly as the cortege entered the crematorium grounds. Two black stallions with feathered head plumes pulled a beautiful glass fronted carriage, ahead of which walked an undertaker in dark suit and top hat. Inside the carriage was a wreath-adorned coffin containing the body of one of the most extraordinary men I had ever had the privilege to know. Bernard, a long time friend, had died following a long, protracted illness, and today was his funeral.

  The deceased’s wife, daughter, and extended family stood together as the pallbearers removed the coffin and carried it into the chapel appointed for the cremation service. This was indeed a sad moment in my life. The world had lost not just a husband, a father, a grandfather and a loyal friend to many, but someone also with a unique gift. Bernard had the ability to glimpse what others could not see. In modern terms he was a psychic, a clairvoyant, or a remote viewer, but his abilities went far beyond any obvious label. He could stare into the past, witness future things, or glimpse distant scenes, all as if they were happening right before his eyes. It was something I had been able to witness on countless occasions.

  We had first met in 1984 after corresponding on various matters relating to Essex landscape mys
teries. Whilst attempting to unravel the identities of three wooden knight effigies inside the church of St John the Baptist in the village of Danbury, Bernard had written to me outlining a vivid dream he had experienced concerning the funeral of one of these medieval knights, whose name was William de St Clere. So detailed was the dream it not only allowed us to identity the knight effigies in question, but it also told me Bernard was a quite remarkable psychic.

  Thereafter we worked together exploring various mysteries of the past, not just in Essex, but also in the landscape around Glastonbury in Somerset, where his psychic intuition suggested the St Clere family held a special interest in the quest for the Holy Grail. It was an adventure that we were to embark upon in the autumn of 1984, and at an ancient burial mound named Wimble Toot we were led by the vision of a shining woman to retrieve a silver and ebony crucifix, found concealed within the roots of an old gnarled tree.

  I was elated by the results of our quest. Yet afterwards, when next we met at our favourite haunt, The Griffin pub in Danbury, Bernard revealed that the stress of producing so much psychic information was making him ill. His doctor had diagnosed high blood pressure, and recommended that he take it easy. This meant that he would not be able to continue our Grail quest (which I later went on to complete myself).

  Bernard did try and give it a rest for a while, but still his mind was filled with images of the past. During the spring of 1985 he began experiencing vivid dreams about ancient Egypt, in particular a subterranean world he felt existed somewhere in the vicinity of the Great Pyramid and Sphinx monument. What he had to say on this fascinating subject led me to begin a life-long search to find Giza’s lost cave world, something I achieved in 2008 with the aid of Egyptological researcher Nigel SkinnerSimpson. It was a discovery that brought me international acclaim. Yet the original inspiration behind this quest was Bernard’s quite profound dreams and visions, which had occurred over two decades earlier.

  There were many psychic quests instigated by Bernard’s extraordinary psychic information, the most disturbing of which was the Black Alchemist affair. Around the same time he had begun dreaming about the mysteries of Egypt, Bernard glimpsed a golden treasure—a veritable Rod of Moses—manufactured in pharaonic times and brought to England at the time of the Crusades.

  Despite his doctor’s advice, this was a quest Bernard could not ignore. It brought us into contact with the activities of an occultist we dubbed the Black Alchemist, whose twisted brand of alchemy poisoned the very earth on which he trod. What followed was a series of unsettling confrontations that drew us ever more into the strange fatalistic world of this warped psychopath.

  Bernard found he could link in mind with the Black Alchemist, just as the Black Alchemist was similarly able to link with Bernard. Although this might seem like the stuff of fantasy, today we can look for answers to this paranormal ability in the subject of quantum entanglement. This suggests that the minds of individuals can remain locked as one across time and space.

  What happened when Bernard and I synchronised with the complex, though somewhat macabre and quite disturbing, landscape alchemy of the Black Alchemist affected us greatly. Whereas I strove to purge myself of this personal intrusion by writing down everything that happened in an almost journalistic manner, Bernard became more and more troubled by what was going on. It led him on various occasions to say he was withdrawing from any involvement in this sinister affair. He did eventually do just this, and thereafter we only ever met within the safe confines of The Griffin pub, something we did through until the mid 1990s.

  The book I wrote and published on the subject, The Black Alchemist (1988), contained a true account of what happened between 1985 and 1988. Its impact on the world was incredible. Not only was the book a runaway success, selling out its entire print run of 15,000 copies in just two years, but it also brought me into contact with many people who were afterwards to play a major role in my life. Friends, celebrities, rock stars, media contacts and future partners, had all made initial contact after reading The Black Alchemist.

  More incredibly, the Black Alchemist, as a character, took on a life of his own outside the pages of my book. In 1991 he became a DC Comics’ super-villain fighting the Green Arrow in a special anniversary edition of the comic of the same name. Then in 2003 he featured as Lara Croft’s arch villain in a Tomb Raider game, which also included an informer named Bernard, hardly a coincidence by any stretch of the imagination.

  Yet strangely, as I watched the real Bernard’s body disappearing into the chapel that day, I was pretty sure his family had no real knowledge of the Black Alchemist, and what kind of impact this man had had on our lives. There was a good reason for that. Bernard had made a conscious decision not to say anything to them about these disturbing events, knowing they would only have troubled them immensely.

  There were no links between Bernard’s death and the events described in The Black Alchemist. He had retired from psychic questing duties many years earlier, and we had not met for almost a decade. Despite this, I would occasionally speak to him on the phone, keeping him abreast of new books and discoveries. I remember ringing him one day in 2008 to tell him about our rediscovery of Giza’s lost cave world. This must have given him great personal satisfaction in the knowledge that he had predicted its existence as far back as the spring of 1985.

  As we talked on the telephone, he had interjected to say he could ‘see’ a bird, a hawk or falcon perhaps, guarding the entrance to the caves. His words made sense since the cave system had been the focus during Late Dynastic times of a local bird cult—the reason why its entrance is known today as the Tomb of the Birds. What Bernard imparted that day turned out to be the final piece of psychic information he was ever to give to me.

  We rarely spoke about the Black Alchemist towards the end of Bernard’s life. As far back as the early 1990s, he had flatly refused to pick up any more information about the man or his activities, since he remained convinced that so long as he kept linking in mind with him the affair would never be over.

  Even though some psychics believe the Black Alchemist is now dead, he remains a force to be reckoned with on a psychic level. His presence can be felt not just at the sites on the Sussex Downs where he perfected his landscape alchemy, but also in our dreams and nightmares. More disconcerting is the strong conviction that family members, or close friends, are today perpetuating the man’s warped vision of alchemy and magic.

  During the preparation of this remastered edition of The Black Alchemist there were clear indications that all is not over yet, for as you will see a fresh journey to the Sussex Downs triggered a new episode in the saga, the fruits of which are still to be written. What I can say is that they explain many of the unanswered questions left behind by the original story.

  Bernard is now dead, taken from this world by illness. Yet his memory lives on, and will never be forgotten as long as the world can read the book you hold in your hands. But be warned, this is a true story, for which reason the author strongly advises that the reader does not attempt to replicate or recreate in any way the events described in its pages.

  To the memory of Bernard G. (1939-2010) R. I. P.

  Part One Black

  Portent

  Spring Equinox 1985. The thud of a car door closing broke the silence of the cold, pre-dawn air. Moments later a silhouetted human form emerged from the vehicle’s shadow and began the slow ascent along a narrow, brick-lined path towards the darkened churchyard.

  The tall figure was worried, even a little scared. He knew only too well that the owner of the small cottage to the left of the track possessed an accursed dog that barked whenever visitors came by. If he awoke this wretched creature then his clandestine presence would be discovered, and he would fail. The churchyard had to be reached before sunrise, or the ritual could not be accomplished and he would not come. A lifetime of dedication to the Great Work would all have been in vain.

  The thought agitated him. But the dog was nowhere to be seen,
so he moved swiftly on towards his destination.

  With his discomposure mounting, the hooded man passed through the gate into the tree-lined churchyard and walked among the few remaining gravestones scattered about here and there. His bitter scrutiny of the sentinel-like church betrayed his hatred and revulsion of this house of God—their god. Yet its stillness reassured him—Christianity slept at this strange hour of the day.

  The first light of the approaching dawn picked out a low rectangular block of stone and mortar, all that remained of the church’s old nave pulled down long ago. This would be his altar.

  In readiness, he set out his occult instruments of ritual upon the uneven surface. Untying a yellow cord from around his waist allowed his black cowled robe to hang loosely. To one end of the cord he attached a short dagger, and to the other he tied a crude wooden stake, which he then thrust into the soft, matted grass a few feet in front of the stone altar.

  Using the long cord as the radius of a wide circle, the cowled figure cut a ring into the ground with the dagger’s sharp point, before shortening its length and carving a second circle several inches inside the first. This would represent his magic ring of protection against any unwanted psychic interference.

  Slow, chilling minutes passed as the figure waited for the sun’s diffuse red orb to show its face above the eastern horizon, and touch the ageing gravestones with its first, finger-like rays of light.

  The black-robed individual stared into the sun’s eye and watched for the precise moment before hesitantly raising his arms above his head.

  Now was the time.

  Sounds in a strange guttural tone, like the hissing of a snake, issued from his mouth, and then silence. More words followed— slow, decisive and this time in English:

  ‘The First Matter has been achieved. The work is complete. By the power of Zosimos, teacher and guide, release the divine essence. Free the spirit. Cut loose the head from its body, sacrifice the soul and carry it through space to the centre of centres. Then let him return to raise the head.’