Red and Black —The Dallas Church Massacre

DALLAS, TX—“Red and Black —The Dallas Church Massacre” is a video I made to show people what The Dallas Church Massacre was like using videos I found online. I played a recording of a prayer from The International House of Prayer (IHOPKC) in my car on the way to an event that turned into a massacre. It was a prayer about The Father that runs after you. While I was driving, I was praying, not knowing I was in danger —and He ran after me and sent real angels.

I had no idea what I was walking into that night. The only reason I survived is because angels came in person to rescue me. They appeared that night the way soldiers in the Israel Defense Forces reported instances of angels fighting on their side in the 1967 Six Day War —with wings of fire and sometimes as giant angels. I saw them with my own eyes —in a Six Hour War fought against a very dark evil.

That night in Dallas, I went to what was advertised as a harp and bowl style prayer and worship meeting at a location in the Dallas industrial district. The hosts advertised the event as the startup of a new church that was designed after IHOPKC. They passed out flyers for it at The Upper Room Church on Manufacturing Street in Dallas, TX. I picked up a flyer. I had no reason to believe that an organized terror group resembling a street gang was deliberately luring people to an event with the intention of deliberately turning it into a death trap.

That night, I walked into the building with two men, one on either side of me. I met them in the parking lot when I arrived. I recognized them as worship leaders from IHOPKC, and thought they came to lead the event. They told me they were their angels, and that they deliberately appeared as them when they could have appeared as anyone. They told me God sent them to protect me. I didn’t believe they were angels at first.

When we walked through the lobby to the sanctuary, they pointed at guitar cases stacked by the wall. One of them asked me, “What do you think is in those cases?” I said, “Musical Instruments.” He said, “No. Ammo.” They both told me no matter what happens that night, they were there to make sure I left without a scratch. They told me, “They may back down. They may not do it.” I didn’t know who “they” were. But I soon found out.

A Lord’s Supper was passed out —which I refused. It made the hosts angry, so I got up to leave. The two men left with me. When we got to the door to the lobby, people scattered all over the room stood up wearing Guy Fawkes masks and sang “Red and Black” from Les Miserables, like it was part of the event, like it was planned and rehearsed. When the last note was sung, they took guns out of their backpacks and started shooting people in a chaos that erupted mirroring The London Riots —how did something like that show up in Dallas, TX?

When we ran to the front door, we saw we couldn’t leave. The gang had stacked church furniture from floor to ceiling, at least 4 feet deep, and had chained it all together with metal link chains and padlocks. They also padlocked the exit doors from the outside. To me, it looked like the barricade in Les Miserables.

We called the police. They came and left. They saw padlocks on the doors from the outside, thought the building was vacant and the call a prank.

There was an exit door across the room, way on the other side of the sanctuary, that the gang had been using —the only functional exit out of the building. A group of boys overpowered a gang member and a large group made it out that way. But many did not. Many died in the sanctuary. Many died on the barricade.

As the shooters mercilessly killed people that night, they screamed “Flodden!” and “Culloden!” —names of historic battles in Scotland’s history that were horrific massacres, battles of defeat in the fight for Scottish independence. This gang saw that prayer meeting like it was a modern day Battle of Culloden. Why?

Other angels appeared at the event. They sprung into action rescuing innocent victims from the slaughter. They said they only rescued people who were pure and who had repentant hearts. They scanned them with lasers that came out of their eyes, said this was how they examined spirits and separated “the sheep from the goats,” and “the wheat from the tares.” They pulled survivors into the lobby, barricaded the door from the shooters, and bandaged wounds.

They told me my job was to pray in tongues and to not stop. They said praying in tongues is a language your spirit prays that tells angels everything they need to know to help you in your circumstances. This was how the rescue was coordinated that night, which resulted in a military base in Fort Worth, TX, being contacted that sent helicopters to life flight survivors to area hospitals. I drove away without a scratch—right before the building exploded into flames.

The incident made the news as “a gas fire being investigated for homicides and arson.” Then the story was pulled. People in Dallas died for Scottish independence that night, and the world just went on.

My experience with how The Dallas Church Massacre was handled:

The Dallas police didn’t get involved until survivors at the hospital forced them to by filing police reports. When that happened, they confiscated the phones of survivors to retrieve the raw unedited cell phone footage from that night.

The police matched images of the worship leaders who were on the ground rescuing people during the massacre to images of worship leaders at IHOPKC by going to the IHOPKC website and watching the 24/7 prayer room webstream. At first, they thought a certain group of worship leaders had been at the event, had acted heroically, and simply didn’t want any credit for it.

But after they called IHOPKC and confirmed that the worship leaders in question were nowhere near Dallas when the massacre happened, they became nervous. They told me they thought a group such as SWAT—a specialized law-enforcement tactical team—or Delta—an elite U.S. Army special-operations unit—might have been responsible for rescuing us from the massacre. But they could not explain what they called “strange lens flares” in the survivors’ cell phone videos.

The “strange lens flares” included instances where the men appeared to shoot lasers out of their eyes and then used the lasers to cut through metal chains to dismantle the furniture barricade. They also appeared to shoot lasers out of their eyes towards each other like it was a form of internal communication. They would shoot lasers towards each other, and the lasers would meet in the air, and then they would nod like they had just communicated. They also saw moments on the film where it looked like a couple of the men divided themselves and split into two separate beings and then remerged and sometimes appeared with wings of fire.

The local police were tense, on edge, and afraid of what they saw. While watching the cell phone footage while I was present, one of them exclaimed, “Did he just divide himself?” Another said, “Woah, did he just shoot lasers out of his eyes like Superman? Wow, that’s cool.” Another said, “Are they communicating with those lasers? It looks like they’re communicating telepathically with lasers!” Then another said, “Did he just show me a wing? Oh my gosh, he’s got wings like a bird! Wait, where did they go? Back that up, I know I just saw him with wings!” Another said, “Is that a weird cell phone glitch or what? I’ve never seen that before. What is that?” Then another said, “Uh, we have to send this out to get it analyzed. We don’t have the technology to review this properly. This is over our heads. This has to be something the military was involved in.”

They then transferred the case to the FBI. When that happened, the local reporting I had seen about the incident disappeared from the news.

The FBI then referred the case to people who, as it was explained to me, investigated extraterrestrial and paranormal phenomena. I was contacted by representatives of this extraterrestrial department who told me that, after analyzing the survivor cell phone videos, they believed I had encountered beings they interpreted as extraterrestrial, but that the beings appeared to be benevolent. They wanted to know why they may have copied the appearances of a group of worship leaders at a church in another state. They also wanted to know how I was able to speak the same language as them fluently.

I tried to explain that all I was doing was praying in tongues. I told them I believed they understood the prayer language I was speaking because they were angels. I felt harassed by the people on the phone when they repeatedly challenged me about this and insisted that I was either speaking an ancient dialect that had not been heard for hundreds of years or an alien language. They seemed focused on proving a speculative theory of their own—that this had been an extraterrestrial encounter—and were unwilling to consider what I was telling them about my own experience. Eventually, I ended the conversation by hanging up on them and telling them not to call me ever again.

My friend who is a skeptic thinks I may have encountered a special forces unit of another country’s military the night I was rescued, which is how they were able to communicate with a commander at a local military base to send helicopters. He thinks the reason they told me they were “the angels of certain worship leaders at The International House of Prayer,” is because they had prior knowledge of the plot, and had to disguise themselves like that in order to get in the door undetected the night this happened. He thinks the strange technology “the angels” in the survivor videos used that local police were unable to explain was most likely advanced military technology that the public doesn’t know about and isn’t entitled to know about. He thinks the reason the US agents I spoke with on the phone afterwards tried to pass off the heroic rescue as “extraterrestrial,” was because they had other military-related reasons for doing so, and that it was a form of psychological warfare projected directly at me.

(I used videos I found online to show you what this looked like, to help you understand the experience I had that night.) The prayer in the video that you hear while looking over the city of Dallas was a recording from The International House of Prayer in Kansas City I played in my car that night while driving to the event. I had been listening to that prayer a lot at that time. The part in it that really stood out to me was the part about God as “the father who runs after you.” I felt that God really did run after me the night this happened. I added the angels in the video, because I wanted to show them flying to the event to rescue people, to show them in the video because I know they were there. The building that appears as an overlay towards the end of the video is The Alamo in San Antonio, TX. I put that image in the video because there were times during the night when we were trapped in the building where I started to think we were trapped at something like the Battle of The Alamo, and that the church we were at might as well have been The Alamo. When the angels asked me how I was doing the night, and kept telling me not be afraid, because they said God already told them in advance we were going to get out alive, I said in response, “Okay, I really think I’m trapped at The Alamo, and this is the Alamo.” Sometimes that was all I could think about, because that’s what it looked like and felt like to me that night. The speaker at the event introduced the evening by bragging to everyone that “The Duke of York” financed the event that night, and said he personally paid for the fireworks that we were going to see to commemorate the church’s grand opening. I thought Why? I thought he hated Scottish independence. Then the speaker continued. He explained that the duke was supporting a Christian ministry as a patron and said he chose to support this event because it was highlighting a cause connected to his country, but said the duke himself actually did not support Scottish independence. It was very odd. I instantly thought oh, he had to have made that up to try to make us think he was really important. But in retrospect, I think there’s a reason to look more into it. When the speaker spoke, he made it sound like we were all going to walk outside and watch fireworks in the parking lot after the church service was over, like it was The Fourth of July. But I soon figured out what “the fireworks” were that he was talking about. He meant gunfire.

This is what the helicopter rescue looked like at The Dallas Church Massacre once we broke out of the building. (Again, I used videos I found to show you what this looked like). I had to stand outside so the helicopters could see a person and know where to land. They flew around for a little while before they saw me. It made me nervous and put me on edge because I was concerned that some of the survivors that were wounded might die before they landed. “The Phantom of the Opera” is in reference to the now former Duke of York, Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor. Whether this is true or not, I felt like I was the target of the event, like he was the predator and I was his prey, and that he made everyone around me part of his prey. In retrospect I speculate he was somehow connected with this because I saw Epstein and Maxwell in the parking lot at the Upperroom Church in Dallas on Manufacturing Street talking with the men who were passing out flyers for the event, like they were a part of coordinating the event. One of the men passing out flyers told me they were patrons of the event and they had pointed at me and wanted to make sure I received a flyer for it. They spread rumors about whose daughter they believed I was, and told them they had to make sure I went to the event based on that. Because of that, it’s hard for me to consider that what happened in Dallas was the result of the actions of a very organized street gang like Dallas police wanted to believe. As I reflect on what happened that night, I sometimes think the group that executed the massacre was deliberately mocking the memoir I had talked about writing, that some people had somehow found out about. One of the ways I believe they did that was by singing Red and Black from Les Miserables and trapping me at an event where I would die and never be able to tell my story. They also played the soundtrack from the musical in the background that night.

This is me remembering being trapped in the lobby at The Dallas Massacre, helping the men who told me they were angels bandage wounds of survivors. One of them ripped fabric off of his T-shirt to create makeshift bandages. He had me hold some of them one by one, so they would feel like someone loved them and hang on. The perspective of this video is of one of the survivors I was bandaging.

This is about how I felt after The Dallas Church Massacre happened, thinking about the people in that community that I had met, and how they died, and how Robbie died. I am still sometimes haunted by the memory of them in my dreams. I sometimes see their faces in my dreams and re-live meeting them and spending time with them before this happened.

This is about how when The Dallas Church Massacre happened, I had no one to go home to when I survived and drove away that night right before the building exploded into flames. I had just left the parking lot and turned onto the street by the property, saw a group of individuals dressed in black sweat suits with Guy Fawkes masks on walking on the sidewalk, like they were patrolling the property. They saw where my car came from and they started running after me. I got to the intersection and turned right and started driving, and then there was a loud explosion and debris that was on fire flew across my windshield and hit the roof of my car then bounced off as I drove away. When I got home, I was traumatized and shaken and had no one to talk to about it. Honestly, if there was someone I could have talked with about this, I really didn’t know where to begin. It required too much explanation. How do you answer a person who casually asks you at church, “Hi Victoria, How are you? How was your evening last night?” Some days when I think about what I survived and how I survived, I wonder what it was all for. Would anyone ever even care? Why did I live when so many other people died? What happens now?