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There exists one place on Earth where a person assumes safety is their birthright. That place is their own body. It is not only flesh and nerves but a sacred enclosure of memory, agency, and personhood. It is the temple where our pain and joy reside privately, a sanctuary of the self. But when this sanctum is violated, whether through physical torture or more insidious psychic infiltration, the devastation is both catastrophic and enduring.
The CIA has long maintained a quiet interest in such invasions of the self. The agency’s declassified "Human Resource Exploitation Training Manual" (1983) defines coercive techniques in terms that are cold and bloodless, describing torture as a means to induce "psychological regression" in a subject. The bureaucratic euphemism for this process? "Behavioral modification under custodial management."
In other words, the goal is to undo a person’s psychological development, step by calculated step. What results is not simply information extraction. It is the hollowing out of a mind until the only thing left is compliance.
Remote Viewing and the New Frontier of Torture
Remote Viewing (RV) has long been romanticized as a benign metaphysical skill, even a spiritual gift. But the reality is far more sobering. The practice, initially documented under the CIA's Stargate Project and related programs, quickly went beyond information gathering. It evolved into something darker.
As described in one of my previous articles www.qfac.ca/blog/the-dangers-of-remote-viewing-people-a-spiritual-and-psychological-warning, RV becomes parasitic when it transforms from passive observation to invasive mimicry. In occult and covert applications, practitioners deliberately enter semi-conscious states to psychologically merge with their targets. Over time, the barrier between viewer and viewed dissolves. The practitioner experiences another person's sensations, thoughts, and even hormonal cycles as their own.
This is not enlightenment. It’s possession.
Consciousness Hijacking
The human psyche has no natural firewall against unauthorized spiritual intrusion. Repeated RV sessions induce a quantum-tether to the target. Allusions to this would would fall under terms like "non-consensual perceptual linkage." In lay terms: once the tether is formed, boundaries disintegrate.
Viewers report mirror flinching, respiratory disruptions, and sympathetic trauma when the target undergoes physical or emotional stress. Shared breathing rhythms and involuntary body responses point toward a loss of bodily autonomy.
CIA's own research into "Anomalous Health Incidents" mirrors these findings, though dressed in euphemism.
Torture of the Body and Social Fabric
There is one place in which one's privacy, intimacy, integrity and inviolability are guaranteed—the body. A unique temple and a familiar territory of sensa and personal history. The torturer invades, defiles, and desecrates this shrine. The torturer does so publicly, deliberately, repeatedly and, often, sadistically and sexually, with undisguised pleasure. Hence the all-pervasive, long-lasting, and frequently irreversible effects and outcomes of torture.
The victim’s own body is rendered his worst enemy. It is corporeal agony that compels the sufferer to mutate, his identity to fragment, his ideals and principles to crumble. The body becomes an accomplice of the tormentor, an uninterruptible channel of communication, a treasonous, poisoned territory. The victim feels debased not by the tormentors but by his own biology.
But the concept of "body" can also be extended to family, or home. As the CIA framed it, the disruption of surroundings, habits, and relationships is intentional. The aim is not just to break the individual, but the entire matrix of meaning around them.
Psychic Perforation of Identity
As Beatrice Patsalides has noted, the self begins to erode. The “I” and the “me” drift apart. Under such conditions, RV becomes a psychic equivalent of physical torture—shattering the coherence of identity. Remote Viewers, like torture victims, suffer derealization, temporal dislocation, and psychotic breaks. They no longer dream their own dreams, but the dreams of the other.
Pain becomes a confirmation of existence. It is a proof, a stinging signal that the individual has not yet disappeared entirely. For some, this morphs into craving—the pain becomes a reminder that they are still distinct, still separate from the predator consuming them.
The Parasitic Bond
Traumatic bonding arises when a victim begins to form emotional attachments to their abuser. The black hole at the center of their galaxy, the tormentor becomes a point of orbit. Victims begin to introject the abuser’s voice, thoughts, and even identity. This is not just psychological—it’s spiritual and neurobiological.
This is echoed in cultic RV environments, where prolonged psychic attachment leads the viewer to speak, think, and even physiologically reflect their target. The inversion is complete. Identity is not just distorted, it is replaced.
Totalizing Violation and Bureaucratic Obfuscation
Shirley Spitz put it plainly: torture combines the most devastating privacy with the most brutal exposure. It is an obscenity that pretends to be a process.
When CIA doctrine speaks of "non-lethal behavioral engineering" or "personality restructuring," it’s merely dressing horror in jargon.
And in RV programs—whether state-sanctioned or cultic—this bureaucratic fog allows predators to evade moral scrutiny. The act remains the same: coercion, fragmentation, and possession.
No Expiration Date on Torment
The aftermath of this type of psychological war is measured in decades. Victims undulate between numbing and hyperarousal. Flashbacks bleed into ordinary life. Physical health collapses. Mental faculties erode. And institutions fail to see the signs.
Language is often inadequate. As Spitz noted, pain is unsharable. It lacks an external referent. It isolates. The tortured mind, the intruded mind, cannot make others understand. They have seen another galaxy.
The Perpetrator’s Profile
Why do people torture? The functional torturer seeks information. The sadistic one seeks satisfaction. In both cases, power is the drug. Soldiers, prisoners, cult initiates—those stuck in anomic voids—regain control by inflicting helplessness. It is not justice. It is self-medication through domination.
This dynamic often gives rise to what is known as Stockholm Syndrome—a psychological response wherein victims develop emotional bonds with their captors. It’s a paradox of survival: when escape is impossible and the world outside turns a blind eye, the psyche adapts. Attachment becomes a defense mechanism. The abused individual starts to interpret small mercies—a pause in pain, a word of acknowledgment—as signs of care or redemption. Over time, these fragments of perceived kindness are magnified in the mind, taking on exaggerated importance.
In Remote Viewing abuse, this manifests in the viewer or the target accepting the psychic bond as fate, or even misinterpreting it as spiritual connection. The viewer, whose autonomy has been slowly eroded, may begin to believe that they need the tether to feel real. The target, sensing a persistent intruding consciousness, may even begin to accommodate it—to adjust their behavior as if watched, judged, or psychically partnered.
The essence of Stockholm Syndrome lies in the collapse of trust boundaries. The victim transfers their longing for safety and validation onto the only figure present: the abuser. This isn't affection. It's coerced survival. And when that abuser is not a jailer with a key, but a psychic presence inhabiting dreams and thoughts, the distortion of loyalty becomes even more insidious.
It’s not simply a matter of brainwashing. It’s a systemic breakdown of relational meaning. The tortured mind, whether by psychic invasion or physical force, starts to see the captor not as the cause of pain, but as the only familiar face in an unrecognizable world.
For cultic RV practitioners, torture masquerades as initiation. For state agents, it’s framed as security. But both share a dirty truth: they produce shattered people and call it progress.
Closing Notes
When push comes to shove, torture has expanded into forms previously unimaginable. It is no longer just fists and cords. It is thoughts, dreams, identities—stolen, rewritten, weaponized. Remote Viewing, when used as an instrument of intrusion, is simply torture by another name.
They say if you stare too long into the abyss, the abyss stares back into you. What begins as participation can quietly become possession, and by the time you notice, it's already too late.
To those affected, whether by touch or tether: your pain is not imagined. Your voice matters. The soul was not meant to be penetrated without consent. And in defending your soul, you defend the divine image in all of us.
