Raised by occultists descended from Cain, a Long Island bastard kills his father, the family priest. But does the last murder cancel the first?

SYNOPSIS:

The First Murder is a psychological thriller and black comedy that reenacts humanity’s oldest story of sacrifice and violence. Set in contemporary Long Island where mythic time bleeds through blood cults, memory-harvesting labs, and cosmic forces. Clay navigates family corruption and institutional violence while maintaining radical detachment from every narrative trying to claim him. His visions aren’t metaphors but parallel dimensions exposing how ancient guilt persists in modern systems. He stands in opposition under the mechanical stars.

I have a twenty-year practice teaching people to reclaim attention from inherited control systems. It’s based on vision and sensing where pain exists in bodies, thoughts, ideas, and beliefs. Personally,

You’re sitting on a bench eating nuts and spitting the shells into the breeze and across the street there’s a pond and you spot Jesus walking on water, inviting you to approach. What do you do?

Clay says, “No.” and walks away. If performed correctly, this gets a laugh.

This is the story of someone who says, no. He rejects all that he sees, honing his individual will.

He doesn’t say no to drugs, though. His psychopomp, alchemist, girlfriend Zel sees to that. She concocts the drugs that rent the curtain and expose the myths rumbling so deep in our subconscious that we can’t even deny we live by them, because we don’t know they’re there.

Are we all descendants of Cain, the first murderer? He said his sin is too great to be forgiven. Now, we live in the shadow of that curse, and our civilization is built upon the corrupt foundation of that act.

Clay’s real father is The Priest. Here’s what happens to Clay at 6 years old.

The Priest places the red-stained wafer on his tongue and closes his mouth for him, makes the sign of the cross. Clay's eyes are agog. The effect of the drug is immediate. He looks up. Sees the ceiling open. A comic, theatrical voice bellows: "Hello, humans." A giant asshole is placed over the opening in the ceiling and voids down the side of Clay's arm.

The next scene jumps fifteen years where he kills The Priest. Then we flashback three days to experience life through Clay’s eyes leading up to his planned initiation into his father’s blood cult.

If framed properly you should understand that there is scurrilous humor all the way through. How else approach the shitpile of lies we are all buried under from the very start. Go back to the first, “No.” A Celestial shitting on us is an apt metaphor for this script, and life as I see it.

Clay: It's okay. I knew this was coming since I was four. Zel: Yeah? Clay: I knew, but I didn't know. How do you live, as a kid, knowing that your father hates you and wants to kill you?

The Priest has Clay involuntarily committed to his psych ward, Eden’s Gate. Here, the visions invite traumatic memories and reveal the mythical war within and without. He is charged in one vision by the mythical Achamoth: The inherent evil that exists inside the systems is put in place to wear you down to the bone, to the nub... YOU-WILL-TAKE-THEM-ALL-DOWN-IN-AN-INSTANT!

But our hero has proclaimed: Town cats make me their leader. I believe it’s due to my indifference. No martyr or savior. He sheds all labels. Self is defined at the end by subtraction.

Everyone needs a strategy when facing the Wall of Lies, built to con and coddle us.

By the end, Clay’s act of rebellion isn’t murder but metamorphosis. He rejects the entire architecture of guilt and sacrifice that built civilization.

Our tony saviors teach us to realize our own perfection because we see it reflected in their two-dimensional eyes.

Tonally: Yorgos Lanthimos Poor Things but darker.

THE FIRST MURDER