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Satanic Badges
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Written By:
Bradley D. Chapline
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PAGE ONE
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"It is the goal of Satanic law enforcement officers to rob minorities and non-Aryan ethnic people of their sense of free will. They impose upon their victims the power of their badges for their cult and its leaders.
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"Mind control is the cornerstone of this cults membership. They have a rigoriously applied system of abuse and even murder. These tactics are used for silencing their opponents".
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Dedicated to my partner and friend Cedric Porter. May you "Rest In Peace".
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It was 4:30AM in the morning when that irrating alarm went off. I rolled out of an old broken down bed with excitement. My wife looked at me and knew I was anticipating a new job today. I had looked forward to this ever so much. I looked out my bedroom window and it was steadily raining.
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I thought, "It figures, this rain is going to mess up my uniform appearance". I glanced at my new unworn uniform hanging on the backside of my bedroom door. It was heavily starched with the creases made to perfection. My boots were spit-shined to match a set of shining mirrors. I was now heading for the bathroom to get a clean fresh shave. I then got in to the shower and began to lather up my body.
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I wondered, "Am I just that good that I breezed through the process of becoming a Peace Officer for the state prison system"? I had been told this process was very difficult and demanding. I marveled at the thought that I had made it to this level. It was clear in my mind that I had a very turbulent past. But, I vowed to be a top of the line officer with impeccable standards. By 5:15AM I had donned the uniform. I was standing in front of the mirror admiring myself. I was now ready to make the 53 mile one way trip to the Stateline Correctional Center.
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I lived with my wife and six year old son in an old crime-ridden apartment complex on the east side of an aging desert oasis. My wife handed me my lunch and wished me good luck at my new job. It appeared as if I marched out to my car beaming with pride on who I had now become. I got in to my little 1982 Mazda GLC station wagon and began my venture. There was no radio in my car. My mind was now fully operational in thought. I was not happy in my marriage. I figured once I got settled in my new job, we could then move in to a decent and respectable place. I glowed at the thought that I would no longer be living in the same complex as my in-laws. But, I did adore my mother-in-law. She was Vera Petrie. She was a very kind-hearted red head who had an aura of style. But, at the same time, you could sense that she was "alittle rough around the edges". I believed that she had a past. My father-in-law was a large man who was of Russian ancestry. His modus-operandi to life was akin to the KGB during the "Cold War" era. Nick Petrie was a boisterious loud mouth. He loved to talk trash. Nick would threaten anyone over whom he believed he had the upper hand. I hated this man from the first time I met him. Nick was not only a back stabber, but a self-righteous con-artist. Nick claimed he was disabled. But, he performed activities that a disabled man couldn't do. He refused to hold a job. But claimed no one would hire him because of his disability. Nick bragged that he had the best looking apartment in the slums.
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I was only about five miles from arriving to work at the prison. I needed to change my focus from my home life to my brand new career. I then departed off the southbound highway. The butterflies began to take control of me. I was excited as I now saw the prison through the heavy rain clouds that lingered over this institution.
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I thought, "Jesus Christ, do I have the right damn place? This doesn't look like any prison. It looks like a university or some shit like that". I now approached a quarter mile long road to the Stateline Correctional facility. I then saw a small tavern just off the side of the road.
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I wondered, "Why would a tavern be possibly located on state prison property"? I was extremely early for work. I decided to stop in and get a cup of coffee. I was stunned when I walked inside. There were approximately 40 gaming machines stationed adjacent to a good sized full length bar.
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I thought, "My God, the employees here look like convicts. Jesus Christ, some of the people who are playing the machines look like convicts too". I didn't want to make a scene. I remained cool and ordered a cup of coffee at the bar. I was right. The bartender was wearing a state prison blues uniform that had his back number stenciled above his shirt pocket. The bartender inquired as if I was a newly hired officer. I said that I was. I then said to the bartender, "Hey, this is a pretty cool place to have right next to the prison". The bartender replies, "Yeah, it's alright. We learn an actual trade here. Warden Townsend owns this place. He's got a big beautiful triple wide trailer right across the street from here". I am now assured that the bartender I am talking to is an inmate. I asked, "Hey dude, is all this on state prison property"? He said, "Yeah, sure it is. Warden Townsend must make a lot of money. He not only gets paid for being the Warden, he owns this bar and has virtually no overhead or labor costs. His home is also on prison property. The inmate bartender then cautioned me, "Warden Townsend is a very powerful man. He is definitely dangerous if you cross his path. That is unless you become one of his pawns in his cult". I said, "Cult, what do you mean"? The bartender replied, "Well you won't see Warden Townsend today so don't worry. Late last night they had their meeting. Let me put it to you this way, something was sacrificed last night, I could see the cross burning near his trailer. The Warden never comes in the next day after one of his satanic meetings". I asked, "Who comes to his satanic meetings"? The bartender said, "Most of his prison guards. You'll never make probation if you don't become one of them".
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I get back in to my car. I wondered, "Man old man, what am I getting myself in to here. Am I going to have to do battle with bunches of small town "crackers" that are corrupt to the bone"? I then proceeded to drive towards the prisons staff parking lot. Immediately, I straightened up my uniform perfectly when I got out of my car.
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