Weird Tales, Mythoes and Cadaverous Planets by: Dennis L. Siluk

The Anecdote of: The Basilsk-de Notre Dame (Revision: 2/2008)

2008-03-05T13:21:00.000-08:00

The Anecdote of:
The Basilisk-de Notre Dame
(Revision: 2/2008)

It would seem that there is no more to be written about this great cathedral, called: Notre Dame de Paris—, put aside, someone bringing something new and strange to the table of tales, never heard of before, that it is even possible to do so is overwhelming, and then bring forth a tragedy nonetheless—or close one—yes, indeed, it would seem to envelop the mind, would it not; but for the curious reader, read on I shall produce some light of interest in this area, if only a thread, and there is a thread of truth in this tale, but I shall never let you know where it is.

It would seem to me, if not an imamate revelation I speak of, surely the first time one has taken notice to it in a courtly manner, although it has been there, right in front of our eyes all the time, for a thousand years if not more. This creature [or being] I am about to tell you about—mythical to many (in its unearthly shadows of the night) —is but a linking element in the demonic world: this ox-eyed demon who gazes at one with vindictive glares, one might say, and yet some have claimed, by and by, he is from the lower, part of the lower world. It has also been said, and I shall say it here: he is working on behalf of heaven‘s door; in a manner of speaking that is, proclaiming to be a soldier in the upper world; the one you and I live in.
It is characteristic of this jaunty creature, that he pursues no man beyond his will, least he brings God Himself down upon him for immediate judgment. And so, in this peculiarity story of stories I will relate to the pursuit and escape as we await the rising tide. And so we stand on dangerous ground, do we not?

Where we are standing now, a bit more frightened I would say, or we should be, as the shades of this long lost mystery come to light! You see, it is said if he were to leave his post [place of duty] his fatal breath and glance could kill at will.
Furthermore, this creature I am referring to seems to have knowledge of men and their motives, strictly by instinct; far beyond the common, endowed human capabilities, they also have a rashness to danger, and a desire for longevity (like mankind), and of course the pleasures of life, I am not completely sure of but they seem to be present within their beings.
This creature, resides high up, guards as a spirit within a solid structure, stone, with life and a bitterness rising from its bosom—and yet it also has a gentle sadness upon its moored face. Moreover, he is from a long line of friends, being of a serpent form of sorts. He is said to have been given birth by a cock’s egg.
I have seen him many times, high up in the corner of the church; the great Notre Dame is what I am speaking of, of course. But one time I saw him eye to eye, yes oh yes, eye to eye—should to shoulder, as if he was part of the gallery of the gods. I stood but a few feet away from him, almost enchanted with disbelief. He is the: Basilisk-de Notre Dame; some call him the Cockatrice. Without a shadow of a doubt, we connected—I began to fear even with my Irish blood, mythology seemed to come alive for that very moment.
The Basilisk stands tall on a corner of the great cathedral, Notre Dame in Paris. He is made of stone: --as big as a small woman, but his body is only shown to his belly. He has no horns, nor tail. And I would guess he cannot fly, for lack of not having wings, which would be my best guess. But his head has the makings of a dog. His forehead is indented; eyes set back far to paralyze his prey—yet I call them ox-eyes, for they are deep rooted. His mouth curves in with a beak like form at its end. And its tongue is all of four or five inches long perturbing from its long mouth, which is as wide and long as its head: as if it were a dying bull, a purple tongue of rage. Its neck is that of a serpent, with muscles linking to its arms and chest; and a spine that protrudes outward like the ocean waves all the way up to its ears which almost start from the corner of its eyes and exceeds its spine in length. This was my demon, and Notre Dame’s gargoyle’s guard.
One cannot help but learn as he looks at him in the twilight; it, casting a gentle sadness with its deadly stone composition, he learns not to be impetuous, rather to look calmly and yield its rational and resolute heart. But no more than that, for fear that he is rebutted and tragedy be brought to cover his pride.
If I were to talk flippantly about him, people would hold me to account. Even though I have the highest respect for him, [him being: the stone creature: Basilisk], not quite a reverence, but respect,--better put: regard for; matter-of-fact, whosoever mocks such a creature it is well to know, you may very well seal your own fate, as I have already tired to imply; for in the past many have.
But what is he guarding? You may be asking. As I have asked, and asked I have over twenty-five times, --yes O yes, over twenty-five times I have walked to and fro, and through the doors of Notre Dame de Paris, over twenty-five times I should say—looking, simply looking up at the heights of the cathedral, the doors below my eyes, the statues that ascend upwards to the creature: Basilisk: ‘…what are you guarding?’. He has been there for a long, very long time, centuries. Some say he guards the courtyard. But then I think, “Does Satan cast out Satan? “ What for? Have I not heard one does not work against himself this way? Has this creature been created in the name of God? to protect man against the demons that may enter this glorious church? No more than a creature of stone, he is, is he? Or what spirit lies within its carved stone. Oh yes, yes, yes, leave him alone cries the gibbous spirits, and the hunch-backed shadows of the night. And so on and on and on he remains; as I do, looking up, as he looks down.

I have heard it said, ‘Do not destroy the foundation of a great church by name or deed, for lack of knowledge,’ and so I have left well enough alone. Let Satan and his hordes see this great church, it will do them well, if not please God-Himself. Yet it does not appease me, for I still want to know why he guards this holy ground, for I doubt it provokes him.
Yet it tells me a great story, on how hard man worked to build it, in praise of the Lord (our Savior Jesus Christ). There is power in this monument, this shrine to the Christ I know. Is it not a great reminder to all worlds, to include heaven, hell and earth, the ones we know of, of God’s glory? But I do not tell myself he is not there for that reason, nor will I fool myself into believing so. There is more to this mystery of mysteries than meets the eye. Yes indeed, and perhaps, just maybe he found a prosperous tide in the form of an investment. He is there watching, counting: reporting, and in my mind’s eye, as in humanities mentality, there is always self-interest involved: this should be no different.
Oh yes, maybe this creature is reporting, reporting what, to whom is the question, to whom? Yes, yes, yes, what could this creature, demon form, what could its coverage be? —many, just many things, I suppose such as: what could have been, should have been, the likelihood of something—or someone, and other such things; all this is conjecture of course—just thinking out loud. Like a spy in the middle of the White House, the Kremlin, the Roman Forum. Like a crook about to still the Monte Lisa at the Louvre. That is who he may be, a spy. He is part of a worldwide conspiracy maybe, possible, without a doubt!
Oh yes, the great conspiracy, to many, so many conspiracies that when a real one comes, we all say: ‘wolf, its phony’; but the conspiracy you and I are in, we just don’t know about it, otherwise it would not be a conspiracy, now would it. I can mention a few conspiracies you do not know about: The one the Mantic-ore, demon commander of a legend from the underworld has taken to the upper world; the one the Tiamat knew was coming, Mother, of Demon 10,000-years ago, yet, this one is being drawn out; the one God foretold, forewarned us about in his book called, Revelation, through the eyes and hands of Saint John. You see, we are in several of them and we do not even know it. And this one, possibly one, has to do with reporting I think.
You may be asking the question by now my curious friend: why have I brought you to this corner of Notre Dame, to this part of Europe. And where am I going with all this, where am I taking you: to a plain slab of stone, inscription, spirit filled. Hang on I have more, you are about to find out. You see, this creature can not fly, I know I kind of told you this, that was implied before, but he can control the air around him; meaning, he glides through the air with only a touch on sold things at speeds beyond any mans run; like a snake in high gear you might say. No, don’t get this mixed up with the comics, the Superman thing, or the Hawkman, no, no it is not a supernatural made up creature by me, it is made up by time, legend and folklore, and supernatural, yes it is by all means. I just happened to be around at a time when it manifested itself. No more than that, no less.
And so I was told, his look can paralyze a person, and I believe this now, for he has insured me he could (as others have whispered to me), he did not put me in harms way though, at first anyway. His will is stronger than the Mantic ore’s [the demonic creature, with a beastly body and a man’s head, as mythology would have it]. And his breath is from the depths of the abyss, that is: the pit [with odors and smells likened to a decomposed body, old and musty, and suffocating, at best]; in such a place I doubt mankind could not live, nor would a demon want to, and if he had to it would be a grave punishment indeed.
Again, I was not put to the test on this subject, but I feared in him not keeping his distance, in the black mist that surrounded him, that canopied the twilight of the night overhead of him, all-in-all, somewhat, somehow protected me from his harm. But other than the Cathedral, where did I meet him [if this is your question]? And it possibly could be mine, if I was you, in consequence, it would be circling in my mind until I received an answer, or created one, or imagined one I suppose. And so I must have one for you to read.

After he had seen me in March of 2002, he followed me, only one night though. It was 3:00 AM. He knew where I was. Many a demon has tried to embrace him I do believe, for his powers, to do their dirty deeds, but have failed; he likes his position, that is why I do not know if he is demon, evil spirit, a lesser spirit, imp, angelic in nature, or what. But, as I was about to say, he followed me. And that is where I want to take you, or where I am leading you, to our connecting. Oh his short little journey where he escapes from and to, is but around this area of the Great Notre Dame, and its island along the Seine [otherwise known as, Old Paris] its beautiful river waterway, which is more of a cannel than a river I’d say, or so it seems to me. And so having said that, let’s look at this chase a little closer.

The Glance and the Chase

I never stared into his eyes; I seemed to have avoided them automatically; nor got that close to him when he was chasing me to catch his breath, and with good sense. But it was late at night when he showed up, appeared for the first time. My wife was sleeping with the window open, the breeze flowing through her covers. She was like a little angel asleep. I was outside pacing, for some odd reason; it was a sleepless night undeniably. Sometimes, possibly most times, it is hard for me sleep when spirits of any kind are nearby. Instinctive I seem to know when they area. It is that my body signals me. That is to say, I am quite ripe, or sensitive to the invisible world’s brilliant but unstable transparency; in consequence, walking to and fro, like a confused farmer, waiting for the black-crow to show up and take the farmers corn, this is how I felt outside pacing. In this case, what would be his fancy?

As it is now, 5:12 AM, as I write this—making my notes as they come to me—four days later, I want to say I love Paris, almost as much as I love my hometown of, St. Paul, Minnesota, where I live, and almost as much as my wife’s hometown, Lima, Peru, where I have a home also. In Paris I have only a small studio apartment, along the riverbank, only but three blocks from Notre Dame, in point of fact, so this tells you I love Paris also. I reside here once or twice a year, for a few weeks of down time, as they call it now-a-days.
As I was saying, or about to say, I was pacing the outside grounds of my dwelling, whereupon this creature of sorts showed up. He tried to make a deal with me, oh yes, oh yes—a agreement, or transaction. I thought for a moment, my wife’s life was at stake, knowing she was alone, but she was not his fancy, for the window was open, and this creature in a black-stone like configuration standing but a short distance away, in a shadowy mist not far from her did no harm, and I presume he could have. But again, thank goodness, it was not his prize or price. But I’m sure he didn’t mind me believing it. Somehow fear, be it man or beast, seems to arouse a hidden pride in us, a pride in that we have the power to instill this fear, in spite of, if we want to or not. But I noticed in his voice, his posture, his distance, I think he feared he could lose his position, had he threatened my wife; that is, had he threatened my wife and I cast him into the pit in the name of Christ. If anything he did yield a key to his mind set. But it was me he wanted none-the-less, me and me alone, not her. Motives yet were not known to me.

I took off to avoid him using his fear, of endangering my wife, thus having me under his whim, so I ran off, through alleys and side-streets, in a few old buildings, and hallways: not sure why I ran through them, I could have ran around them, he was casting from a distance odd looks at me as if to say: ‘…what are you running for,’ as if I wanted to, I could have you, but as I said before, I wanted to create a distance from my apartment, for our meeting, so he could not completely overpower me. And surely he could have overpowered me.
The hotels would not open their doors as I pulled at them, and so I jumped over and around a few car-bumpers in my way. I ran to the river, and the grass along the park outside the church of Notre Dame I stopped. Then I thought, ‘…every time I had stopped he was but five or six feet in front of me, or in back of me.’ What did he want I asked myself each time, as I tried to catch my breath? Standing still, like a stone in front of the Cathedral, I started to laugh, profusely, as if I was a bit off balance.
I tried one more time to escape his shadow of sorts—a shadow that really was not a shadow, it was him, the shadow, for he had no replacement other than him; hence, he again cornered me, seeing but a black mist again, a heavy configuration within the mist, I lowered my head in coughing, being quite short winded at the time, to catch my breath. I made no solid glance through the mist, as my breath came back to me. He was not yet talking (but I knew what—if not who—he was: The Basilisk-de Notre Dame).
I asked, “Where now?” kind of huffing and puffing from the run. A joke, but it was all I had in me to say [I figured if he wanted to do me harm he could, or put another way, if he could do me harm, he possibly would have by now]. He stepped back a ways, almost covering his shadow like figure, possibly to protect me from them legendary eyes, and breathe. Sometimes I find spirits are as curious about us, as we are about them; especially those who were never human beings at any given time.
“Take this,” he said, with a whisper, slow calm voice—almost soft; he wanted me to destroy something, somebody, I thought, possibly him. I stood there; palm-hand on a car, catching my breath, up and across the street was Notre Dame, and the walls that guarded the river, you could see the river-walk. On my side of the street not all that far away was “Shakespeare And Company,” an English bookstore, a place I stop at every time I’m in Paris.
It was a weapon of sorts, so it looked, as I looked down at the gift, or whatever it was, something to harm someone with I would guess, is what he was trying to hand me. Did he expect me to pull the trigger on him, if so would I destroy him, and commit a cardinal sin or would it be a more promising sin. Was he bored [came to my mind]? Was I the only one that looked into his eyes when I was on top of Notre Dame that gave him attention in a thousand years or so? Was I his salvation, his way out, and if I killed him with this funny looking gun, of black volcanic stone, or so it looked, would I be stone. Was he the tempter, or the tumult? I had learned a long time ago, sometimes you can simply go with the flow, or die trying to explain a dimension of something that is beyond you. A world you cannot look into, yet they can look out of.
I took the weapon, and, and then all of a sudden there was a whisper telling me to use it on him, or myself, it said either way. Then there was a long pause, a very long pause—he, then, simply wanted it back. Not sure why. His fingers I remember where long, pointed, almost disjointing, strong and fearsome: as he extended his hands to me, and through the mist, to get to the weapon I was now holding. I asked myself again: was temptation his high?
Then he spoke: he said he had fought in a great battle, and upon his death, he refused to go to Hell, or the pit, or even leave the earth, that being in solid stone was better as a spirit than to face the everlasting realities of either of the two places I mentioned, or so he thought. That this time he was speaking of, was a time before the time of Adam and Eve, he was a mason in a far off distant land, of another era—a time when jaguars were almost ruling the world, whereupon God stepped in and again, saved mankind from extinction. And when he rejected God, the true God, for idols of Jaguars of that time—as gods, in the haze of battle with these beasts, and upon his dying breath, he asked for mercy, to be left in stone that he’d guard over God’s throne on earth. And so he has, but not without a price, that being boredom. But should he seek death, he’d go to Hell. Should he remain on earth, at a holy site, guarding it, and harm no one, he would go to paradise, between the great gulfs—which separates Hades and Paradise. But like all of us, he was lost in his own self pity, and at the last minute, stopped a suicide attempt (or I should say I stopped it).
I tossed the weapon back to him, and ran to my wife (for he could not kill himself for some reason), to see how she was. He was there again, outside, looking in our apartment window—looking in from at distance, as if he were in a tent in an open field—with black mist around him. I comforted her. And lay close to her. I suppose he was missing someone to talk to, the comfort of a loved one you could say—is it not true, happiness is shared, and he shared a moment with me, in how many centuries I do not know.
And so I left him be, and he me. I personally had no control of the other world I knew of, or him. I knew one way or another he wanted death by desire, but again as before some 10,000-years ago, he chose life, as we all would most likely d—I think. But I couldn’t give it to him, nor take it from him. If anything he and I were simply a distraction for one another.
My wife awoke, asking what was wrong. I told her nothing of any importance, but I lied I suppose, it was of importance, for him, and such a memory as I write now, she will see, see that it was quite a night, more so than what I had her believe it was; in any case, during this time, I looked out the window, he was nowhere to be seen, he had vanished out of my life as fast as he had come in. My wife turned about a few times, asked in a drowsy way, if all was well again. I said I was feeling a little affectionate, not able to find any other words, or for the lack of a better term, along with a little insomnia.
Now if your asking: ‘Why me,’ another blank, but it is not the first nor I am sure, nor will it be the last blank to come my way in my little life time; yes, I know, another question to a dead answer. I guess he wanted a piece of both worlds? He wanted to test me under fire in my world (and God allowed it) also I do believe, to see if I was as strong as him, possibly to bring the case up to God, get His attention, but I think he got the message, that he was already under God’s grace, not to play with it. If I meet him again, maybe I’ll ask him a few more questions, but I’m in no hurry to do so.

Notes written while in the Cathedral and on top of the Cathedral, and in the bell tower and the story written out thereafter, March, 2002; It was my forth trip to Paris, and my last trip, it was a rainy few days.

Slaying of the Tiamat, in the Valley of Death

2007-10-24T15:58:00.000-07:00

(A story of the Death of the Tiamat)

Note: for those who have not read the short and three books of the Tiamat of the Author’s, here is a fragment, he spat quickly onto the fire for his new readers. In the trilogy of the books of the Tiamat, she fights with Murdock and is killed, but this fragment was left out, now you have it. The Tiamat series was originally written in 2000.

By Dennis L. Siluk

It was said she, the Tiamat was singing when she descended back to the underworld, descended into the bowels of the earth, to the cold, wet part of the netherworld, where the Manta core, her old friend, and her daughter, Gwyllion, resided, lived among the ice worms and horrors of darkness, and all the demigods that once roamed the streets of the great city called Yort, in Asia Minor in the lost millennium, some 8800-years ago (6800 BC).
When Murdock, mangled her outside of the gates of Yort, in the valley of death, the old spat did not stop there, she swore she’d return, she paused impassively as her essence left her physical body, to the darkly overcast, a hundred human beings looking tragically on this once servant, or almost servant of the great demon Murdock, this big blood thirsty beast, shredded by its equal, or so the world of Yort thought. At that moment she was mentally deaf, lost in a daze, her hands twitched; her pale dark green eyes stared at Marduk, eyes that suddenly were crossed eyed, hanging out of its sockets. Her frame was colorless, illumined by the dim sun showing only dark shadows, the creeping in of moonlight darkened it further, throbbing around her as if she was a ghost.
The unexplainable truth is that Marduk wanted all of Yort and her worshipers in particular to be subject to him, plus, she failed in her task to unravel the mystery only Sinned knew, Sinned the philosopher of the city, and he knew when the end of the world was coming, as Murdock wanted to knew it; actually they both really wondered what Sinned knew, but the Tiamat was always afraid of Sinned’s magical whim, or so it seemed, he had the power cast her into the abyss, or at least so she heard.
Now at hand was the Tiamat’s death, her eerie shaped spirit floated above her collapsing physical body; such debasement was always in the back of Murdock’s mind, his fancy you could say, that is to say, to slay the Tiamat, he was now glad enough to watch and dispose of her at this gully, this hollowed out gorge in the valley of death, cliffs to one side, Yort above, its inhabitants looking down.
Yet she sung, sung so all could hear, sung on her decent to the imagination of course of all who heard, sung the song of revenge. They tried to dismiss it, vaguely they were all terrified of her revengeful song, all but Murdock, terrified I say, because they all felt she was impossible to kill in the first place, yet the impossible happened in front of their eyes, and it would not pass away away.

The other demigods of Yort, were troubled by this battle of course, troubled because Yort was changing, slowly changing from a multi demigod city, into a one demigod city, one by one they were being dismissed by Murdock, killed, mangled, limbs and inner organs torn out of their bodies—oh yes, Murdock could have killed them easier, but he needed to put on a show. Now it was this battle they all watched, and watched the weak and dizzy, incapacitated Tiamat fall—fall, fall… curiously puzzled she was but she fell—and they all witnessed it, perhaps thinking: when was their day coming? It was, yes it was, becoming all too obvious for the on looking demigods. Up to this point, Murdock’s cheerfulness was quenchable, but now they were all doing a odd grumbling as they watched the mighty voice of the Tiamat sing its way down into the belly of the flowerless underworld.
One of the demigods commented lightly, “We had better stick together, lest we be hunted down like the Tiamat by Murdock.” Then another voice said, “Hell, no, no Murdock always had it in for her, he doesn’t’ care about us.”

Birth of the Devil-goat

2007-10-24T15:54:00.000-07:00

By Dennis L. Siluk

Part I

Chapter One: the Birth

It was in a little lot of farm land outside of Cairo, Egypt, 1998 that this happening, took place that a voice of a demon, and a figure of a devil peered through the skin of a goat, upon its birth, the old man shuddered at its appearance, his niece, who farmed the land with him, remained still, paused impressively as the birth took place, the old man demanded she kill the freak quickly if not instantly, crying, “Kill, kill, kill the freak…!” You could hear in the tiny head of the creature, its voice humming a death song for the old man, a chant, as it lay in an open shed, next to a large bull; a few cars drove by, a hundred-yards from the open shed—it was early, the sun just appearing lightening up the closed shack next to the shed where the two individuals lived. The old man’s hands stretched up to heaven, and he cried “Allah…!” and he fell to his knees, his niece still in amazement at this extraordinary birth, in this intriguing but not much more than a dirt farm batch.
For the rest of the brief five minutes, they witnessed from this little farm, as they remained in silent, the birth of a devil-goat, so the old man called it inside their minds, in lack of a better name.

Fatima was an orphan taken in by her uncle several years prior, her mother had died earlier because of her delicate health, she died on top of a Cairo bridge, that crossed the Nile River, under a cardboard box she had used for shelter, there Fatima remained until her uncle, Solomon, found her, and took the child to the rented out piece of land he now plowed and planted and harvested. The lonely stony plot spreading to the highway produced vegetable, and for the most part, the owner charged little for it, feeling it better to keep the price reduced and someone, thus, having someone to watch the land, and kill two birds with one stone. It was really just a large patch of land, being farmed, not a farm in the sense of a large piece of land.

The road wound past several small farms, the edge of the lot, crossed the road it was all plateau here, and the great pyramids were not far away, a beautiful sight for the tourist driving by, should he not look at the dirt farm on the other side and be disenchanted, and in front of the lot, was an old hinged fence, long was the fence in front of the roadway, and tall was grass along side of it. The old man’s face twitched with his dull and dim dark eyes as he stared at the creation of this suddenly new birth of a creature, a voice that sounded like the beating of an old deep and rustic metal drum came from its frame. It leaped up and onto its hind hoofs, Solomon was saying at the time: “See I told you to kill it…!” (Just how to kill it he d not mentioned.)
She left him presently, stepped a few feet closer to the creature, “You’ll have a chance to live,” she mumbled as she looked down upon the creature, the old man clutched fisted now.
The harsh throbbing voice, faint as it was, could somehow understood Fatima, it spoke in a foreign voice, foreign to any other language ever produced on earth, yet she could understand. She had many questions in her mind: such as, where did it come from, how did it get here, what exactly was it? She didn’t ask those questions out loud, she just thought them.
(I can answer all these questions for you though, but she would never know it for herself, not exactly anyway. It was a tragic thing that took place, casual as it seemed in the sense, one day a persons life is as it always was, and then an abrupt change takes place, but after a moments time, it all seems somewhat normal again, hence, the breath of life entering a young goat, life from another species, horrible looking, shockingly creating a goat like demon, is not casual, but it seemingly became so in time, in a short period of time for Fatima anyhow. It came from a place called: “The Prison House for Angels”, these angels were fallen angels. You’ve never heard of it you say, well, if not, don’t be incongruous, for there is and was a place called that, it was beyond Orion, created by God, long before the earth was created. It was needed more than ever back then, for when the angels rebelled, where would the damned go, God spread out a village for the damned in the dark hidden parts of the universe. Here no one could hear the faint, ghostly cries of the voices behind the invisible wall, like lions in cages they were. All floating in space and quivering in the darkness, dying in their silence from the rest of the universe, this was their abode, showered with streaks of crimson fires far beyond their reach. And then, Azaz’el was released, to be brought down to earth’s hell, for what reason I do no know. And somehow he escaped and now he was being reborn in this goat, secretly you could say, for who beyond God Himself would realize such a birth was taking place, surprisingly on the very planet the two angelic beings were to bringing Azaz’el, but of course to the lower chambers of the earth.)

Terror had swamped Solomon, yes that is what the goat-devil saw in his eyes, as it stretched out its new body to several feet; now a hoofed beast, with three horns, naked with wet hair from foot to crown. Solomon now showed more poignant terror than anyone could imagine. But the adolescent feared not, actually she started to laugh lugubriously. (The creature lost something in its birth process, something it had when in the “Prison House for Angels,” it lost its matured mind, it was now deformed, defected, reduced to a lower capacity; it knew, but didn’t know—you could say, it heard the voice of the girl, fragmented, and it stared blankly at her, he called out: ‘Mother!’ The creature was a child beast, a devil-goat, so it looked. It may have escaped one destiny, only to find a dreary new one.)
It noticed a faint skeptical smile on the girl, heard her humming softly, “You are right, uncle, I should have killed the creature, but I can’t.” she said.
The uncle tried to brush away her crazy talk, her new obsessed caring for the creature, as the creature now was all of eight feet tall, broad at the shoulders, the Uncle horrible tense, standing by that open shad, the bull uneasy, brooding about the hay.

Chapter Two: The Light

It was early morning, and light starting to stretch out over the land, the struggling birth was over; the goat’s mother had died giving birth to the creature. And Fatima was now its new mother, or so the creature thought. Fog was disappearing from the roadway, and the old man was dune quivering, all sat back against the woodened wall of the shed, seemingly like ghosts. The foreign language of the creature seemed to adjust to Fatima’s mind, although to the uncle it seemed to be nothing more than grunts and groans. The ghostly death of the mother goat, in the early silence of the morning was no more than a blur now. The old man had buried the goat, in fear if he ate it, or cut it opened, it might trigger a new development, one he didn’t want. Thus, he took the goat behind the shed and buried it. Perhaps that sounds foolish, I know, but I can only tell you how it was, foolish or not. Now flashing lights from the roadway appeared. “Damn it,” the old man said as he walked around the shed, looking at the fog lift, the car lights, “Damn it, you can’t live with this thing, it’s deadly, and it will murder us in the middle of the night.” Then as he became visible to the creature and Fatima, he went blank in the face, as if not to show any signs of complaint, said nothing distinguishable, only mumbles as old men often do. He went over to the two, pushed the dark black huge bull to the side, it moved quickly, then the old man said to Fatima, “You thought you heard a dead mans cry earlier within the birth of this creature, I do believe it was his mind changing, agonizing in the process, it went like a leap, from what it was to a child, look at it, it seems to be bloodthirsty and at the same time, excited over you looking at it, as a child to a mother. It’s a real thing for sure, but who owns it, is a different story.”
(What was going through his mind perhaps was: could he be so lucky as to try to control this freak of nature, and make money off it in the near future—like ‘King Kong’? I mean, was this a chance in a life time, or was this strange creature indeed too dangerous to play such a game with, for the old man said to Fatima: “Strangeness nowadays, people pay to see that!” It was more of a question-statement, but Fatima did not answer, and the creature simply looked at Solomon when he spoke, then looked at Fatima, somehow feeling if she looked decrepit because of his voice or words, he was dead, or soon could be. But she held her facial features, likened to flat. At this point the old man looked confused, an echo went back and forth in his brain; again he stood clutching his fists, almost fearful, but now with more force, and with anger…he shrugged his shoulders, started to walk out of the shed, and with a leap the creature grabbed him by throat, lifted him up above the ground, his feet dangling, Fatima just looked, and looked and looked, and his mouth opened, and its teeth showed and it was hungry, and Fatima looked, and looked and looked again, and the creature’s teeth were sharp like the fangs of a huge dogs, and it seemed like he wanted to swallow a good portion of the old man’s right limp, it was dangling in front of his eyes, and he was hungry, and his limbs were just dangling helplessly, a rip, a quick rip is all it would take, then the creature smiled as it looked at Fatima, as if awaiting for permission to eat, and he’d be fed, and she smiled…!)

Part Three: The Harm

“Let me go,” yelled the old man. But as the Azaz’el looked at Fatima, her face suggested with some bitterness, not to, she had and held a cold look, reprovingly saying ‘no’ and quicker than the sheering of sheep’s wool, the creature had in its mouth a limb, the right arm of the old man, and you could hear the crunching of the bones, and in his throat, which was now lumped with the limp, the creature tried to swallow…it came to look again upon its mother, Fatima, its hair long now on its naked body. He dropped the old man to the ground, her eyes widened, “Why,” cried the old man, “I took you in as a child, why did you not stop the creature, he is some sort of devil beast and animal?” The beast crawled now on its knees, rampaging around the shed like a devil-dog. The old man stayed put, not wanting to get near him Then Fatima assured him, that the creature would not harm him again, that it was a lesson for him, a terrible one yes, but nonetheless a lesson for him not to decide to do her child harm, and the sabertooth creature now clasped her hands, and kissed them.
“Oh Uncle Solomon why? Why do you think such things of Azaz, he is just born and you want to harm him, he came alone into this empty hearted world; this is a warning for you.” She was irritated with him; she glanced at him with a look of pleading almost, yet visibly wilted.
“You mean to tell me,” said the old man, bleeding from his shoulder, “a girl like you is the mother of this creature like man, or devil, it fails me?”
“Certainly I am,” she said quickly.
“Well, I’ll be—“ said the old man as he began to fall into a bewilderment, drift off to sleep, the pain was too much, and there was no relief, and when he woke up, several hours later, his wound had been attended to, one arm less of courses.

Part II

Chapter Four: The Condemned

He had awoke two days later, in the gray cold light of the morning, he felt condemned, his executioner was not far away from him in the shed, Fatima was not in the room … he could hear her voice outside talking to the bull…

DR (10-24-2007)

Hurry up and Die

2007-10-23T13:57:00.000-07:00

(A Short Story)

They lived across the street from one another, on Albemarle Street, they hadn’t got along for the past two years, and the son-in-low knew, the old man was moving out, away from it all. Often the old man’s daughter would walk through his yard, not say a word on her way to the bar that was across the alleyway. Her husband, Mike worked at the bar off and on. John and his wife, moved into the house with Jean lee; they worked for the old man for a few years, often took what they could get away with in merchandise, and John overcharged the old man for much of the work he did on his rental property he was for a long spell his manager of sorts (the old man gave him free rent, electricity, water everything was paid plus a salary); yet knowing the old man was ill, and had no one else to rely one, he would take advantage of him, along with the blessings of Mike and Jean lee. Then one day he up and quite on the old man, and when he found out life was not as sweet on his own, he tried to get his old job back, but the old man would not accommodate him.
Mike was not a very good helper you could say although he got reduced rent from living in one of the old man’s houses for years and he and his wife a paycheck, working for his father-in-law, he’d create jobs with John, robbing the old man when he could, even told the inspectors who would check the old man’s houses, to condemn them, when he saw something wrong, something he should of, or John, had taken care of for the old man. In addition, Mike would push gossip to the neighbors that his father-in-law was nothing but a creature, and pile lie upon lie, to the point of annoying the neighbors, yet for some reason, the neighbors wished to believe the ogre.
But this is not where the story begins, it is simply the background to a short story that sadly took place, and never should have, but too often is it not true nowadays—too often it does take place, with children badmouthing their parents, or in-laws, those who feed you. In any case, Janet the neighbor took a disliking for the old man now, whom once she had a fondness for, if not respect. But again, this is not where it all started, it started the day the old man sent a letter over to his daughter, the one who would not talk to him because of a prideful and greedy husband, the husband that grabbed him eighteen months earlier, and tried to break his ribs with a bear hug because he told him to fix the kitchen floor on one of the several rental properties he had worked on and done a bad job, the old man being a hundred and seventy pounds, the son-in-law, a hundred or so pounds more, and a few inches taller, he did survive that of course, and when the husband was told to leave, he whispered, “You’ll never see your two grandchildren again,” (ah, poor Willie and Keith) and he’d try to keep his word, for every time the kids seen the old man setting on his steps, or porch, and they’d walk by, if the kids would look at their grandfather, the husband would slap them in the head, “Turn around, don’t look…!” he’d tell the kids. And on they went.
But as I said, it all started with a letter the old man sent, saying in essence, he was moving away, far away (not giving any specifics), but it was hard on him to remain where he was, and not be subject to abuse by his daughter and her husband. So he gave her the remaining pictures he had of them, and her birth certificate, along with other items he had been safekeeping for her. She never did return an answer to the letter, although an answer was not asked for.
And so what took place was this:

It was the winter of 2004 that the old man had sent the letter, indicating he was leaving, and not ever returning, it would be in March of 2005, he would go, although Mike and his wife did not know of the exact date. Thus, Mike talked to John, saying: “I’ll never get a dime from him, he’ll spend it all now…!” For some odd reason, John came and told the old man of this, but he just smiled and walked away. Yet John and Mike were concerned. The old man, according to them had a lot of money, and was selling all his rental property, one right after the other, and they saw this, plus they say the old man’s brother coming and going with folks buying items in the house, so they had to make their move, if indeed they were going to. So they devised a plan, and they would carry it out.
It was 2:00 AM when the old man and his wife went to sleep. Janet was watching from her window next door, she called Mike up, saying, “Ok, he just turned off the lights…!” And John and Mike got out of bed, got dressed, their wives still sleeping and the kids, and then walked across the street to the old man’s house. Mike still had the keys to the old man’s garage (and perhaps John did also), and he figured, one of his old residents would get blamed for what was about to take place, but the resident was now in prison, so it would eliminate him from the suspect list. In any case, John and Mike opened up the garage door, a double garage, Mike thinking, it was now or never, Janet watching, and considered somewhat, she might be implemented, plus, she didn’t want her property destroyed along with the old man’s.
Mike walked about the garage, gathered some wood, a few brooms, papers and other flammable things, put them together, poured gas on them, then poured gas from where these items were (John watching, leaving his foot prints in the snow, hoping the bedroom light would not go on), to the car in the next stall, lit the fire, and smoke poured from the low lit flames, to the point they had to leave the garage early or be absorbed by them; soon the fire would surely burn the cabinet of wood next to it, and then being attached to the house, burn the whole place down in a matter of minutes, it just needed to burst into flames more.
During this time, the smoke seeped through the metal door, into the pantry and onto the kitchen, and slightly around the corner to the old man’s bedroom, in which the door was shut. (Had not the old man but a metal door in place of the old wood door by the garage, it would have allowed much more smoke into the house by now, for it was at least ten-minutes the smoke had been infesting the garage—circulating around it, and Mike and John had made their way out of the garage, back home across the street, and into their beds, as if nothing had happened.
The old man was sound to sleep, and his wife, some years younger, heard a voice, it sounded like her mother-in-law’s, Elsie’s voice: “Ros-a! …Ros-a!” And she woke to find out who it was, for Elsie had been dead going on four months. When she opened the door, the smoke almost smothered her, it engulfed her, but not to the point of subduing her. She looked for the fire, called her husband, “Fire…fire…!” But where was it, I mean the smoke was there almost everywhere, and her husband half in a daze, ill, said “Check the garage,” and she did, and there in the garage, it was worse than in the house by far. Next, she ran back into the house, grabbed a wet towel and covered the small fire, and opened the garage door, by that time the old man came into the garage coughing (and counting his blessings).
Had they not stopped the fire, when they did, as the Captain of the Fire Department would say later, “The way the fire was positioned against the cabinet, the whole house would have gone up once the flames got stronger, and you with it!”

And so I leave the good reader with this: beware of those who you try to love to death, for often they are the ones who wish deep in their hearts to harm you. For what comes out of their actions, and mouths, is from their heart.

Note: Written 10-22-2007

Semyaz, an Archangel's Judgement (The Runaway Comet)

2007-08-03T13:14:00.000-07:00

The Unfinished Tale (now completed)
The Scourged Dark Ages (part II)

Semyaz, an Archangel’s Judgment

(The Runaway Comet)

Advance: If you have read the journal notes on the epic poem concerning Semyaz, and his island, in the pacific you will know his story up to that point, Semyaz (sometimes spelled with an end ‘s’ or ‘z’ both the same person, was also part of the adventures concerning th e Lihmoirils, from the Black Galaxy, in the twentieth-militiaman, BC. So he has been around for a while. Also, Andaman, a demigod who took over the planetoid Ice-cap, the moon that circles the Planet Moiromma, a nearby solar system to Earth’s; this demigod was as huge as the legendary Tiamat, and as strong as the infamous Marduk. And like a supernatural being, he could transform into the physical or invisible form at will.
And if you have read the Cadaverous Planets, the name King Luhtc will emerge; once king of Moiromma, he died on the planet and no one ever knew where he was resurrected, until now; and Bah vii the High Priest. This is one of the lost tales, also considered the unfinished tale, because it was put into a book unfinished, but will of course not remain that way. The runaway comet in this tale is the size of the small moon that is close to planet SSARG, called Rotma, the larger moon is Retina (sometimes spelled with the e and the i reversed. Some folks have identified this comet to be TPC, the large body that creeps out of the Earth’s Solar System, and over Asteroid Ice-cap, and back around and over the planet Cibara and back though the Kuiper Belt, and back into Earth’s solar system, but I doubt that it is, for still others say it is a planetoid, for there are many harp players on this runaway planet of sorts. This tale was lost and now found it is the tale of Semyas after he left the island, it takes place at the end of the dark ages (400 to 800 AD), and in to the early Middle Ages, Earth Time. And perhaps this can be considered part of the Cadaverous Planets, since most of the folks in this tale, are from that category.

For whatever reasons he was not judged as harshly as Azaz’el and Buer and his bosom and gay demonic companion, Gusoyn, both really only simple demons and for the most part avoided skirmishes except for a good laugh now and then; and it was so, when they provoked Semyas to leave his abode and commit a second unpardonable sin (if you have read the first part of this you would understand). But because he was so dumb to be tricked, Ura’el had come to subdue him and in the process gave him a new judgment that Azaz’el heard about in the deep Abyss, and was profoundly disgusted. His first harsh judgment took place in 4000 BC; this second one was as indicated before, the last years into the Dark Ages, seeping into the early Middle Ages.
Thus, his judgment was to be cast upon a runaway comet until the end of days. And now he has arrived on his comet.

All the land was cold and desolate and Semyaz, looked upon it and thought with little hope, and saw what he would call, The Rockwall Cliffs, there into its side was a dugout cave, someone had lived there before, here he would call home.
A ways down from the cliffs was a large lake, and a river that came out of it.
The orbit of his comet was as follows (which soon he would find out for himself): it crossed Earth’s sun, and through its solar system, across the Kuiper Belt of asteroids, across the residing solar system, of planet Moiromma and across the planet Cibara and into the Black Galaxy, across Planet SSARG, and its two moons, Retina, and Rotma, plus the nearby planet known as the Gray Planet, or Cirumia, and into darkness, when it came out, it was near Mars.
Semyas discovered his comet was perhaps one eighth the size of Earth’s moon. It took five years to complete one orbit around or somehow through the two galaxies, and sometimes the comet was red hot, and sometimes 400-degrees cold, where there was no heat at all in the atmosphere. Such weather lasted only weeks, and then it would change for weeks to blazing hot, between 300 to 600 F; the lakes and river would almost evaporate, completely, and the comet often would slow down, then regenerate itself and speed on through its orbit again.
It would come close to hitting objects in cosmic storms, meteorites, but it never did completely, it did gather up dust and other particles of residue, even from planets, such as eggs, and fish, also there was a few Forlorn Eagles, and Tor-rats around.
The Forlorn Eagle was a large bird, 300-pounds, with a wing span of some thirty feet; it had lived on the comet for centuries, and could only fly short distances at a time.
The Flock

The year was 1010 AD, over two hundred years had passed and to Semyaz’s surprise, he found a group of beings on the comet. Had he searched sooner he would of course come across them.
He had discovered them one night, when he sailed across the lake, and down the river away, and saw a fire, a campsite, with tents, and a small rock fortress, about thirty folks.

I shall introduce them to you: there was King Luhtc of Planet Moiromma, he had died and ended up here, a 95th resurrection for him. It seemed he was second in command. Then there was Andaman, a powerful demigod, who took over Ice-cap, the Asteroid moon by planet Moiromma, unlike Semyaz, whom was a renegade angelic being, he was a demigod whom was cast on the comet by Ura’el. Also in this little group was Shamhat, of Uruk (2700 BC), and Axon II, a shadow Demon who had once lived on Planet Mercury. And Bah vii’a, High Priest of Ice Cap, sentenced to the rock, or comet, and there was Sanet (also known as Anorf) (also known as Princess of Rotma, at one time, the large moon that orbits Planet SSARG). And then there were children, old men, women and young men who comprised the rest of the group known as the Jawbone People (because of their long jaws that hung low and outward from the Gray Planet, know as Cirumia.

(Note: the Jawbone populace —“At first glance, it looked like a real person, at second glance, it was a creature with three arms, eyes that were so far apart, it would see in back of itself; it was covered with brown leather skin, knotted like muscles, a protruding large, very large jaw; a think nose, and small ears, it wore a loincloth.”

Information from: “Planet of Gray Dawn,”
The Saga of: “Siren the Great”
Part III to the Planet SSARG

Invader

Semyaz, put long and deliberating thought on the matter of, if he should invade the group, he would be the most powerful he claimed to himself, but if he did, he could lose the only companionship he would ever have. He had remembered the evil empire that was built on Lihmoir so many years ago, where the young king and demigod Illiria took it all at will and ended up with nothing. Being a bully had its consequences. He was not of the demonic race, rather the angelic race, and dominating the group would be easy, unless Axon, tried to hold him, and Andaman tried to overpower him, both demonic beings, and Luhtc, strong as a bull, but would tire out quick, those were the main contenders he’d have to worry about. But no, he was not going to do it that way. And so he stood at the rim of their camp, night and day came and left, and he was never to be welcomed.

(A year later—1011 AD) A year had passed, Semyas had fell into a slump, darkness you could say, depression, stumbling inland and out of the rocky slopes of the Comet. He got a lot of sleep to say the least, trying to avoid his grief.
The night sentinels never allowed him to enter the campsite, as often he’d venture across the lake to see the movements of the flock. He would watch them plant and harvest the small squares of land each person of the flock would be allowed, of vegetables they had grown, and so forth. Yet Sanet still caught his eye, the late princess of Rotma (whom was born on Moiromma, and brought to Rotma, thus she had Moiromma blood, meaning she had a life expediency of 900-years, and about one-hundred resurrections, it was this, her last resurrection that brought her to the runaway comet). She was pale and old, but yet beautiful with her long golden hair, and one of a few women.
It was this one particular evening, when Semyas was standing outside the campsite, hoping to get a glimpse of Sanet, she did appear, and rumor was she was to wed Moirommalit king, ex king I should say, Luhtc. She walked up to Semyaz, which caught him off guard, surprised he was, and she said,
“You come to see me?”
Stunned for words he was indeed, but “Yes!” he said, adding “to gaze upon your beauty!”
“It is along way across the lake,” she replied (but there was something developing, in her eyes, a mood, she wanted something).
“If you wish me to be your mate on this comet, you will have to win me, and quickly, for this evening I will be wed to Luhtc.”
“Why is that?” asked Semyaz.
“I am a Moirommalit by birth, and he was King of Moiromma until he lost a battle there once, and was killed and resurrected now a number of times, he ends up here, and I have little choice in the matter unless you kill him, and he will disintegrate, and be bound for another planet.”
Semyaz did not answer right away—he thought on the matter, thought little time was left; Luhtc saw Semyaz and was heading over towards him and Sanet.

The Contest

Semyaz stood before the great bonfire of the flock, he had told Luhtc in so many words, he would take Sanet by force, or contest, as often his planet allowed for, in a dispute about a bride to be. Thus, Luhtc had little choice in the matter. Luhtc was huge as a living physical creature, and strong, and Moirommalits could endure, but could he endure a ex angelic being, whom now was a scorned archangel by heaven, and hell, and his renegade angelic flock; he also was not all he used to be. But Semyaz made his stand, and Sanet had used the moment to avoid the marriage between Luhtc and her. To Luhtc she’d be a play thing, with Semyas, she might have some sport, fun, dignity, and protection.
The harp player was from TPC, a planetoid of sorts, in the solar system of Moiromma, he played for the flock, as Semyaz and Luhtc got ready for the brawl. Any and everything was allowed. The objective was to kill Luhtc, or to exhaust Semyaz, thus, he would allow defeat of Sanet in such a case, and leave the flock as it was, with no revenge intended.

The battle had started, Semyaz was never thrown down, not to the dirt nor into the fire, he stood his ground and Luhtc, although thrown down he fought for twenty-hours, trying to exhaust the angelic being. And Semyaz was getting tired, but not exhausted, he would not quite, and it was at one particular moment, Semyaz had Luhtc by the throat, but would not kill him, he knew such memories stick into the minds of others, it might be better to give mercy, living and physical beings, and for once he did not want to win by fear, which would develop after the fight, and he said, “I will spare your life, should you retire across the lake, far from all of the flock and me.” And the king knowing he had but few resurrections left, agreed, and that evening he rowed across the lake and found himself a new abode.

Conclusion:

End Notes of the “Soldiers of Nirut,” Series

So ends the tales of Nirut or its series that started with, “The Soldiers of Nirut and ends with, “The Runaway Comet,” and the last of the Lihmoirions and the stories of the Black Galaxy, which includes Marduk the evil one and his dealings with the whole lot. Hell’s lot also, and the few characters from Atlantis, Ais being one. In this series many characters from other stories came into the picture. Unhappy was the lot of Nirut, mingled with Terb of SSARG, malice plagued the planet of Toso (most of these being of the Cadaverous Planets). In all ways, evil sought most to cast a dim light on things, but one must judge the times. For many hated many, and those how did not smile or hate, where perhaps trying simply to survive in the feared atmosphere of the times; the Lion King of Lihmoir, turned his back on many. And Nirut and his father the Blue King conquered much, for example, the planets of: SSARG, Toso, Moiromma, Ice-cap (Asteroid-moon), Lihterb and many more places, except earth, and the moon called Retina. Somehow it seems it sister moon got spared, that of course is where the Great Siren spent much of her time, and he did not want to disturb the status quo, or perhaps out of respect, for we all have heroes, and she was his hero, as the Lion King’s hero was Nirut. Nor did he waste his time trying to conjure the Gray Planet, I don’t think he felt it was worth his effort (you know, the planet that Siren got killed on, and the Jawbone people—some of them, ended up on the runaway comet); Life seems to go in circles if we follow them. The Quiet Mound on planet SSARG was the battlefield for the main battle of all these happenings, and Yahoo, ended up being the new king of Planet Lihterb (Nirut’s home planet), and a new era came about. Semyas of course ended up on the runaway comet, the last of the stories (an era Rue and the Think Tank, with the Cobbler kind of ushered in, of course by the approval of God Almighty, how else could it be). What more can I say, it was quite an adventure, if you followed it from its beginnings. Until we meet again, on our next voyage.

Index

The Jawbone People
Planet of Gray Dawn (or Cirumia)
Semyas, Angelic Renegade (once Archangel)
The Rockwall Cliffs of the Runaway Comet (also known as TPC?)
King Luhtc of Planet Moiromma
Andaman, powerful demigod of Ice-cap
Axon II, a Shadow Demon, Lotus Ghost (originally from Mercury)
a nasty looking shadow, with a hideous smile to it, and teeth that seemed to have layers; two legs hung
Bah vii ‘a High Priest of Asteroid Ice Cap
Rotma—second and largest moon by SSARG
Retine—first and smallest moon by SSARG
(Where King Nirut gathered his army to attack SSARG)
Sanet (also known as Anorf) once princess of Rotma

Written on tablet paper on 7-26-2007, completed on the computer on 8-3-2007 (written at the Platform)

The Lihmoirils (The complete series)

2007-07-22T12:47:00.000-07:00

The Lihmoirils
(Journey into the Third Era))Part I))

(21,000 BC to 17000 BC—the Third Era)

King Roneaf of the Lihmoirils

Advance: After a time, Nirut became like many heroes, ordained to be put on the shelves in books and scrolls. The third era had come, a great concourse gathered about on the planet Lihmoir, hidden in the dark channels of the Black Galaxy. Yet it glimmered overhead, if one was looking toward it with a powerful telescope, one would have seen it. The times had changed in the Black Galaxy; Rue had driven away war, and its vapors of death, and rolled back the curses of the demon. It was a time, a thousand years to be, of freedom from temptation of the shadows, shapes, imps and ghosts of other world; a time the lifeless were and would be, forbidden to this planet this one and only planet deep within the whirlwind, vortex of the Black Galaxy, and those who would resist would be cast into an Iron core.
What Rue had done was this: he had talked to the Almighty, and with a stroke of his hands implanted all the demonic forces in the Black Galaxy, and in particular on planet Lihmoir, into an Iron-plated, nickel core, glob of rock and metal, more like incased into a meteorite, weighing about one hundred and fifty pounds of demonic residue.
Then Rue buried it deep into the soil of Planet Lihmoir, and told the inhabitants of the planet, “Should you find this destructive and cursed encasement leave it as is, do not try to break it open, or crack it, lest you release a horde of demonic creatures. For they are dead in the dark at present, lifeless; you may hear voices, but do not worry, they are circling within these encasement; demonic echoes.”

From the Journals of Roklem (Scribe and Poet of the Kingdom of Lihmoir, territory of Totemic (Totemic: known as the great city enclosure) :

“The king spoke before the counsel, saying ‘ Land of the Trees of Namear, the once dark land where little grew, has passed away, and now here lives light and happiness, for Rue has bound the demonic forces of the galaxy for a thousand years.’
“And all listened intensively, for it had taken place but a year prior to this lecture, in front of most of the inhabitants of the planet, for two thirds lived in the great city of Totemic, and the planet consisted of five-hundred thousand people. Our planet is perhaps the size of Earth’s moon.

“Forethoughts were in his mind though, yes indeed, only a year of peace and quiet from the outside demonic world, and 999-years to go, and King Roneaf was already thinking about how to capture that Iron Core, as he called it, so he could control the demons to have them help him, conquer the Galaxy, as the Blue King and Nirut did in their days, some 1500-years prior.
“A seer by the name of Odlon, Odlon, seer of the Dark Tree Forest of Namear, Namear being the name of the once dark forest to the east of the kingdom, gave advice to all whom would listen, ‘The worse of death is the loss of hope, and this planet is the last outpost of hope for the galaxy, it is to Rue, a testing ground for greed and free will, for other planets.’
“Even for those whom are well liked by Rue, such as was Nirut, and now King Roneaf, there is work that needs to be accomplished, once then, Rue will often times appear, or help, as he did with the Cobbler, so many years ago, and the ‘Think Tank’. But during the second year of this new found period, Roneaf, forgot Rue for the most part. The bliss of finding this power, decayed into a meteor was more important, or so it seemed, to where he gave little time to his wife, Ewwam. She had told him, ‘The hurts of the people have been healed, and why look for malice in the Iron Core, where Marduk is encased; it will only be confounded, once you find it and if you crack the cast.’
“But as you may know, a man in love, or a man intoxicated, or a man in lust, or a man with a compulsion, cannot stop himself, help himself, by a simple grunt and plea from his wife, no, pain must accompany it.
‘No, I wilt no grant what she would ask!’ he told his many counsel members, and asked them to back him on this future search into the Dark Tree Forest of Namear.
“Then Ewwam spoke to the counsel, as wives can do on Lihmoir, and said,
‘Hearest thou my friends and leaders, hearest my words (silence)—speak yea or nay! If you deny Rue’s gift, and find this Iron Core, and crack it, what will stop the demon from darkening the light for the Lihmoirils? For did not the darkness fade because of Rue?’

“Said Rodlon, the High Priest and Adviser to the king, and layman seer, in front of the ten member counsel house: ‘We should not be so quick, we know’st not much of this Iron Core, only what legend says, and what King Roneaf heard from Rue, and the words of a cautious Queen. Let us have peace a while longer before we stick bitterness between us and conquest beyond us, for I am old, and indeed my heart needs rest.’
“The king was of course not happy with either his wife or Rodlon. But the king said in his heart: if I must break the rules of the counsel, I shall (for he needed the majority to agree with him), and it was a tie, a knot. Not the first in his life perhaps, but a tight one.
“Now there was silence in the counsel chamber, and the king brooded in the light of the assembly room, he was beset by the tie, looked upon his wife as the enemy, and Rodlon, said, ‘Are we safe with a king that may be possessed with this act of finding and revealing the thieves of the Galaxy?’
“The king knew Rodlon had read his heart, if not his mind, and then the king cried out, ‘Thou hast spoken, and I will adhere to it; this thing, Rodlon says I will do, I will not do without permission. But if you constrain me, then shall I pick my army to subdue you, and your kindred.’
“All knew it was best left alone. Then I, Rodlon rose, lifted up my hands and proclaimed the counsel was now behind the king. But to me, it was by name only, for I read his heart. I had seen in vision a reign of doom, should this Iron Core be cracked.”

Cracking of the Core

(Author Narrates) When King Roneaf had found the Iron Core, his wife, Ewwam grieved for the anguish that would befall them, for she had talked to the great seer of the Dark Tree Forest, and Odlon, whom saw and wept for this moment even before her, and now she feared that the darkness that was now falling, swallowing up the light of the forest, and shadows and shapes taking its place, peace would soon be gone forever. She fully understood, but the king perceived he still could talk to Marduk and his kind the other henchmen of hell, and make a deal for power with them, but they all passed him away, as hawks flying in the night to find their prey, not one gave good tidings to their savior. And one, Tye, the lustful one, grabbed Ewwam by the shoulders, dug deep into her skin, likened to eagle claws, and swept her through the forest, slapping her along the way with strung-out branches, and she screamed, and the king stood there in shock, could not do a thing. To deal with the devil, one needs thick armor, and he had forgotten his, it was Rue.
There was no escaping them; there were thousands in pursuit of the kingdom now, over the forest they whizzed like hornets. Then Marduk came grinding his teeth to Roneaf, and he stood in mid-air, said, ‘You will never see your wife again you know, Tyr does not share, and he eats them after he has his fun, or simple has them bear his children, one after another, until he gets tired of them.’
‘What wouldst thou have more?’ said the king.
‘I can take what you offer, and more, why would I ask…go feed thy belly, I did not vow to give you a thing, I am your Lord now, you have freed me to be so, knowing or not knowing, if you defy me, Tyr will have his fun with you also.’

And so it was, in those far off days where peace lasted less than two years. And the king clenched his hands in pain, a dagger in it, and he would not open them, ‘Nay’ he said, and rose from his throne, and stuck the dagger into his heart, and awoke no more. Odlon the seer burnt the king, and threw his ashes to the east winds out to sea, and they landed in deep and forgotten places, among the rocks and waters of Tnailognu, the great sea of Lihmoir.

Devil Ghosts

And Rodlon, the High Priest and Adviser to the previous king, and seer of sorts being free (after a year of incarceration) gathered again all his belongings which was not a vast amount and hid in the mountains from what was known now as the devil ghosts, that grew and multiplied on the surface of the planet, by cohabitating with the females, and Marduk, the Tiamat, Tyr (Ewwam gave birth to a hybrid, Tyr’s child), and Agaliarept, the Henchman of Hell, was present and became kings of the world.

And Marduk created a great crown out of iron and nickel out of the Iron Core, the meteorite, and wore it wherever he went.
Seldom indeed did Rodlon leave his cave in the mountains (he wrote his journals), nor did he create a weapon to save himself. For now, more than in the days of King Roneaf, Rodlon was at peace; humbled peace if anything. His hatred devoured him though for the domination of his world by the insidious devil ghosts. Nonetheless, the terror remained, the mighty demons sank deep into the soil of the planet, and darkness and fear lived on.

▼

Index of Characters and Places

Agaliarept, the Henchman
King Roneaf: of Lihmoir
(Who seeks he Iron Core)) The Great Enclosure of Totemic))
Land of the Trees of Namear
Lord Rue of the Black Galaxy
The Cobbler of the Think Tank
Roklem, the story teller (Poet)
Rodlon, the High Priest and Adviser
Ewwam, wife to the King
Odlon, seer of the Dark Tree forest of Namear
Tyr, a demonic being, insane and lustful
Marduk, the Dark Lord of Hell, third in Command
Tnailognu, the Great sea of Lihmoir

Outline written, 7-17-2007, revised and rewritten, 7-19-2007

The Devil Ghosts of Lihmoirils
(And the Lion Boy)

(Journey into the Third Era)) Part II))

(20,985 15 BC to 17000 BC—the Third Era)

Advance: After a time, fifteen years to be exact, Marduk and his horde of henchman, ruled most all of the planet of Lihmoir, except for the hills and mountains beyond the Dark Forest of Namear, the hills known as Chaeronsierra, where ¨Rodlon, the once High Priest and Adviser to King Roneaf was hiding out in a cave. Amongst the caves were tribes of nomads, wonderers from one area of the mountains to the next. The mountains covered some six-hundred miles long, and two hundred miles wide.
Ewwam had given birth to a boy, his name was Illiria. Agaliarept, the Henchman from hell, number three in the hierarchy, was now the unpredictable politician of the great and large city of Totemic, other wise known as the great enclosure.
Illiria, was a hybrid, two thirds superhuman, and gave his allegiance to his father, Tyr, always seeking power from Marduk although, as his father was more of a playboy, and gave his allegiance to whatever lust befell him at the moment. He was a prepossessed maniac.
The boy Illiria, was know as the Lion Boy, for his heart for battle was strong, and at fifteen years old, he was six feet tall, broad and strong as five Tor-rats. He hunted with Marduk, played politician with Agaliarept, and watched his father produce several more offspring’s, all girls. Tyr, he never took a wife to be a wife, most of his daughters, six out of the seven were retarded, and were too ugly, and large to be betrothed to any Lihmoirils, thus, other demonic beings took them to cohabitate with.
And now I should leave you with the Journals of Rodlon.

(The words from the Journals of Rodlon, 20,985 BC): “Roklem, was still alive in those days, the poet, scribe, yet he did not write much on what took place, although he did talk to me much on what took place at the palace, and with Tyr’s son, Illiria, and so I shall mix my journal notes with his and with a little diplomacy, I shall try to bring out a clear and obvious picture of what took place, and put rumors aside, as often they do creep in. History is vague at best, and I do trust Roklem, for he outlived many of his coworkers, because of his imbecility.
“Marduk owed his accession to being king because of his fighting demon, his so called assembly, of which there were 200-left, out of thousands. The others had left in fear Rue would come back and banish them again. Thus, he was not officially decreed by the inhabitants you see as king, just by the two-hundred. Actually, the Tiamat was passed over, and from what I had heard, she was his arch-rival to be, and she was in the past, what I saw in the future I mean I had insight from Odlon the Seer, yes, he is still alive and trekking the mountains with the lost tribes of the Chaeronsierras (the great mountain barriers of Lihmoir).
“But it was Illiria who made the big difference on Lihmoir (or would in future time) after the demonic forces were set free by King Roneaf. The boy lion was intellectually outstanding, and flexible and swift in his adjustments. Emotionally he was—so it seemed—was seemingly looked upon as in another time zone. He didn’t mind physical hardships, or pain or danger, under extreme psychological stress he would break rather than bend. In that sense he was not his father’s son by far, rather his mother’s.

“In the First Great War of the Chaeronsierras, the first phase I should say of the war, the Tiamat and Agaliarept had taken an advanced force of Lihmoirils soldiers, and demonic military across the mountains, to wipe out the nomadic tribes. Sesra, known as the chief-maker (for he was the main chief of the nomadic tribes, and had decreed several others to be under him, not quite equal, for he had the biggest of the tribes numbering one hundred and fifty followers.)
“He gave the demonic forces a lot of resistance, and both his tribes and the demonic forces were disorganized, and his in particular weak, for the mountains were a hardship on the troops, it was cold, and food scarce, and men became lean.

“Illiria, had taken a small command in this expedition, his father was happy to see him gone, he was if anything a nuisance for him. It did seem, the hatred of his sisters followed behind him, and their husbands, but he paid little attention to them, for it was of more concern to Illiria, how he was seen by his commanders than by his sick family, all except for his mother whom was held in the kingdom (captive), and still held her beauty, and the deep claw marks Tyr had put into her shoulders 16-years prior.
It was funny, but very true Illiria was more trusted in battle than Tyr by all in the coming battles of the mountain war. Thus, when left behind, it didn’t bother anyone.

The God’s

“It was after this phase of the war, Marduk, had a festival of games in honor of his command and trusted soldiers, Himself, the Tiamat, Agaliarept, Semyas (the astrometry demon) and wanted Illiria to be present for the Lihmoirils trust him, over them. Then at the festival, he brought out wooden images of themselves, the images were paraded all around the stage and had lifelike colorings to them, sculptures also of marble were brought out of the four demon, and they gave them out to the onlookers, and then Marduk, ensured the public should they keep these images in their homes, and pray to them, they would be safe, for they were gods. Illiria was proclaimed a living god too, as the demonic forces were proclaimed a supernatural god. Illiria wanted to refute such heresy, but for the moment should he, it would be seen as tyranny, and he’d be ostracized from the kingdom, and not be able to do no one any good.
“There followed a ceremony on stage somewhat of a show, and the demonic forces flew here and there as if they had wings, and some did produce them upon flight, growing right out of their shoulders like magic. To the Lihmoirils it did not seem suspicious; it seemed correct and real, as if they were demigods.”

▼

Index of Characters and Places

Semyas, the Astrometry Demon
Sesra, the Chief Maker (nomadic tribe leader)
Illiria, son to Ewwam and Tyr the Demon
The Great Mountains: Chaeronsierra
Agaliarept, the Henchman
King Roneaf: of Lihmoir
(Who seeks he Iron Core)) The Great Enclosure of Totemic))
Land of the Trees of Namear
Lord Rue of the Black Galaxy
The Cobbler of the Think Tank
Roklem, the story teller (Poet)
Rodlon, the High Priest and Adviser
Ewwam, wife to the King
Odlon, seer of the Dark Tree forest of Namear
Tyr, a demonic being, insane and lustful
Marduk, the Dark Lord of Hell, third in Command
Tnailognu, the Great sea of Lihmoir

Outline written, 7-17-2007, revised and rewritten, 7-19-2007

The Lihmoirils: Feast of Doom
(Journey into the Third Era)

(20,984 BC—Part Three)

Agaliarept was the master of words and had good insight into the changes in a person’s behavior (as if he was a psychologist), as was his job in hell to lead a legend of demonic military, and during his time as High Priest of Atlantis he needed to be alert to the minds of the day (in future time, yet to be). He had no hair on his tongue, that is to say, he said whatever he wanted to say, whenever he wanted to say it, he had power in his words, doom in his heart, and banishment in his brain for those he did not like, and he did not like the Poet Roklem, yet Marduk did. It would seem the poet brought too many questions to meeting tables, talked to too many people, was creating rebellion and unrest.
Agaliarept’s words were tense and full of anger and pride, even the Lihmoirils (whom were his backup) where becoming apprehensive of him, yet they liked Agaliarept for he allowed leniency for rape, murder and all capital crimes, and yet he punished as one of the four punishers, or judges of the great city of Totemic, harshly those who talked or gave resistance, rebellion, or anti demonic terminology: these were next to capital crimes, and could get a person onto the free labor force of Totemic for five years to life, if not need he faced death, no one in this society was going to feed freely an inmate, it was to them insane to thing tax money would be provided to such violators of the law. And he was looking for an opening to sentence the Poet of the city in such a way.
But again I say, Marduk liked him, and I would guess because he wrote sonnets of him, odes to him, Lyrics about him.

But a change did take place, and I shall be sad to say what I must say, but I will nonetheless say it, his family was raped, I mean his wife, and his father and his children killed. But here he was left alone looking at this disaster in his home within the city limits. No one was captured for this atrocity, nor punished for it. Marduk did not stick up for Roklem the Poet, lest he look bad in front of his comrades, plus, one should know, the psychotic ness of a demon, is exactly what it means, he has no real feelings for the human race other than to use them, they lie compulsively, and are offended easily, as a manic might be. So this meant very little to him, other than trying to get a new ode out of him.
But his cries were heard throughout the city, “Why of people of Lihmoir, why should we not fight these demonic beasts that have no truth inside of them. They do not serve humankind, we are their foe.”
This oratory was heard all over the city, and it was exactly what the henchman was waiting for, and he knew he would not have long to live, if not killed incarcerated. So he escaped at night, and found Rodlon in his cave in the high mountains of the Chaeronsierras. In a way I suppose this dramatic scene made him valiant, but why must such a tragedy wake one up, such a price to pay.
Said the poet to his long time friend, Rodlon, “Vengeance calls me hence, but even if it did not I could not stay longer in a place that lives solely on pretence, and self-interest.”

Sitting now in Rodlon’s cave, over a glass of honeywine, the poet Roklem added,
“Here once was light, not Rue begrudges us it because of one man’s dirty heart. Thankless the king of old was, but do we not deserve a second chance, is not Rue unfair to us?”
And it was that Rue heard the plea, it echoed past his celestial abode, and he descended into Rodlon’s grotto in the high sierras.
Said Rue, with a vibrating voice, as if he was underwater, and only an outline of him could be seen a mist of white due, a large being with a white robe, and tunic: “For shall be the end, the people shall select the king and long and hard shall be the road, the demon will have his voice but not his power, and all shall be equal in strength, but bring your swords should you tell an untruth just once to me poet or king for whomever rules this land, then shall I will let this binding, this knot, unravel for it will be your fault you have broken this covenant with me!”

Now Roklem was known as the Poet-king, and had told Marduk—now simply a General—“I will be gone for a short while, I need to find Rodlon, whom is migrating across the mountains to the other side for winter is coming here, and spring is rising there, and I need to talk to his seer, Odlon to see what is in store for next year, I wish to be prepared.” He was obligated to inform his generals, and he did not want a rebellion with the demonic forces to fire them, thus for the meantime he left them in positions he could control (for he was much preoccupied with not telling an untruth or being caught up in one).

Agaliarept, overheard the conversation, said to Roklem the Poet-king, (with Marduk present), “We are having a banquet in your honor, on the first day of summer, during the Summer Feast,” which was 78-days away, “will you be present?”
The king said automatically, without thinking, “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” (That had sealed his fate.)

The Feast of Doom

When the poet-king left, Agaliarept laughed, and spoke to Marduk, “So! Now all we have to do is make sure he does not return on the first day of the “Summer Feast—as I figured, his pride got in his way with the dedication—lest he be told by someone his kingdom demands he be present, and reminded of his pledge to be so.”
Said Marduk “Yea, in the end shall he follow me!”

And it was that the Poet-king did reach Rodlon half way to his destiny, and the snows were heavy on the mountains at this time, and along came a blizzard snowing everyone in the camp solidly in, and they could not reach the second contingent, where the Seer was, perhaps now on the other side of the mountains. So the king’s long arduous journey to find Rodlon although successful was half complete and the days passed with both Rodlon and the Poet-king talking and drinking and allowing the blizzard to wear itself out. Thirty-five days had passed. And he had thought briefly of his feast, but it did not dawn on him, he had an obligation to reach the kingdom on the very first day of summer.
Nonetheless, the Poet-king left the campsite on the 36th day, and headed on back to Totemic. It was a twenty-day journey. It was now the 56th -day he was gone, if all went well, he’d be back home on the 76th -day. But on his way back, the weather was not kind to him; he had to remain a day at another old campsite to allow the winds and cold to die down. They had lost several pack horses, and the food was 80% gone, and thus, the going was slow, and the rations almost used up.
He and his entourage arrived back to Totemic, on the 77th Day, only to find Marduk on his throne—then it dawn on the Poet-king, he had broken his word, and the powers of the demonic forces were now in full strength.

▼

Index of Characters and Places

Semyas, the Astrometry Demon
Sesra, the Chief Maker (nomadic tribe leader)
Illiria, son to Ewwam and Tyr the Demon
The Great Mountains: Chaeronsierra
Agaliarept, the Henchman
King Roneaf: of Lihmoir
(Who seeks he Iron Core)) The Great Enclosure of Totemic))
Land of the Trees of Namear
Lord Rue of the Black Galaxy
The Cobbler of the Think Tank
Roklem, the story teller (Poet)
Rodlon, the High Priest and Adviser
Ewwam, wife to the King
Odlon, seer of the Dark Tree forest of Namear
Tyr, a demonic being, insane and lustful
Marduk, the Dark Lord of Hell, third in Command
Tnailognu, the Great sea of Lihmoir

Outline written, 7-20-2007, revised and rewritten, 7-21-2007

The Lihmoirils:
Rebellion of the Little Lion

(Journey into the Third Era)

(20,983 BC—Part Four)

Illiria, the hybrid born of Tyr and King Roneaf’s wife, Ewwam, was now seventeen years old, some eight feet tall, and quite a sportsman, and military officer. He was well liked among his own kind, the hybrids from the 200-demonic creatures that were now cohabitating with the women of Lihmoir. Many of the demonic forces took for them wives from married Lihmoirils, and their daughters at will, and now there were more children than the original two-hundred.
Illiria had now taken sides with the Lihmoirils, and had visited Roklem the Poet, and Rodlon, the previous advisor to King Roneaf. He wanted to help, and in this meeting in Rodlon’s grotto (help free the planet of chaos from the two-hundred renegade demonic forces), Odlon the Seer was present. In addition, Illiria, had found six young comrades his age, or perhaps a year younger, who felt the way he did, that the planet would never survive as long as the evil forces outnumbered the good forces.
And what could he do and his giant comrades do to rid the evil forces of the planet once and for all, assuming Rue would not intervene, for he had twice before, and twice he was let down.
The name of the followers of Illiria was: Ralov, Thogrom, Omlu, Ronaef’el, Ramadle, and Ewlo.

The Great Summit of Chaeronsierra

It was the third day of the meeting, called, ‘The Great Summit of Chaeronsierra,’ and Odlon the Seer had made several swords out of a meteorite, it was so strong it would, with the might of a strong man, cut through an enemy’s sword. And thus, Odlon, sitting around a fire, with the other guests, cast a spell on the swords, and summoned the several members of the Think Tank, the collateral and cosmic body that had oversaw Toso, years prior, in particular the Cobbler, asking the Cobbler if he and his group would be the new vanguard of Lihmoir, and how could the forces of Illiria overpower their parents?
The Cobbler did appear at the third meeting, in the physical form, he was likened to his comrades (The General, Governor, Captain…etc.) under the command of Rue, yet Rue had given them the planet Toso to rule over (but that is of course history now).
This, said the Cobbler, “At your request I have come, Rue has given only me to you for advise, and I myself am not beyond the power of Marduk and his horde, perhaps equal at this moment to them, but surely not able to devour all two-hundred, as I’m sure you would like me to,” pointing to Illiria.
The Little Lion (Illiria) then showed his teeth saying, “Cannot you or the Seer, make my fangs poisonous and thus, when I bite the enemy, they will disappear?”
The Cobbler smiled, said not a word, as if it was a rhetorical question, but added,
“I have an idea, a psychological tactic, with substance.”
(During this meeting the Seer gave to each of Illiria’s forces a sword, to include Illiria. Then he cast a spell on the swords, and they glowed, as if they were of radiation, and he said, once you cast this sword deep into the guts of the enemy, they will be bound into the abyss of the same material they had once come out of through a crack made by the old king, King Roneaf.) And all who listened believed. And he named the spell, “The Spell of the Little Lion,” and the swords took the names of its owners and spoke as if they were living things.

And Rue planted into the minds of the two-hundred demonic beings, this obsession of death to those who would be cut deep by the swords. But only the Cobbler and Seer knew of this. And word had swept through the Kingdom—as often times bad news does—that a meeting had taken place in the grotto of Rodlon, and Marduk, the Tiamat and Agaliarept heard the echoes of the meeting, they called these echoes to their chamber, and listed to them for hours, read the hearts of those who spoke, and those who listened at the meeting, and those who believed this was so. And they could not discriminate a falseness of this (though it was psychosomatic). And the demon heard the swords talk, and knew it was of a higher power, and they wondered and worried.
Henceforward, the day of the battle arrived, and all seven young hybrids, stood solidly together at the gates of the city, in the uttermost darkness, the Little Lion, was in front of all six. The hearts of the 200 were sunk in despair, Marduk and the Tiamat, left, as did all the others except Semyas, who claimed, he did not go along with the group, therefore was not subject to its punishment of abandonment. And Illiria, gave him refuge, and allowed him to remain in his old position (astrometry demon).

And so closes a chapter on Lihmoir history, but let me add for your sake, Illiria became the youngest King on Lihmoir, as the Poet, stepped down, by his own free will, and did what he did best, write poetry and wrote his journal; the people elected a hero in his place, and were very proud of him. And it also must be said; King Illiria admired King Nirut, as perhaps the Alexander of the Black Galaxy; as we all must have heroes. And in time, Illiria would become liken to Augustus of Rome, and rule the planet for 44-years, and then … (well that’s another story).

▼

Index of Characters and Places

The names of the followers of Illiria were:
Ralov, Thogrom, Omlu, Ronaef’el,
Ramadle and Ewlo

Semyas, the Astrometry Demon
Sesra, the Chief Maker (nomadic tribe leader)
Illiria, son to Ewwam and Tyr the Demon
The Great Mountains: Chaeronsierra
Agaliarept, the Henchman
King Roneaf: of Lihmoir
(Who seeks he Iron Core)) The Great Enclosure of Totemic))
Land of the Trees of Namear
Lord Rue of the Black Galaxy
The Cobbler of the Think Tank
Roklem, the story teller (Poet)
Rodlon, the High Priest and Adviser
Ewwam, wife to the King
Odlon, seer of the Dark Tree forest of Namear
Tyr, a demonic being, insane and lustful
Marduk, the Dark Lord of Hell, third in Command
Tnailognu, the Great sea of Lihmoir

Outline written, 7-21-2007

The Marvel of King Nirut (22,494 BC)

2007-07-19T13:35:00.000-07:00

The Marvel of King Nirut
(22,494 BC)

We have read of the Young King of Lihterb
and his scribes, their journals, some of war
and of pain, and some of joy and merriment,
and some of betrayal, guilt of past adventures,
of all those things, of all things that men sayith,
King Nirut, his ways were thought of heavy of
adventures in days where lords, ladies, and kings
marveled at such heroes and he became their legend,
the King of Kings, of the Black Galaxy…!

He loved his women and music, to him they
gave honor; he even learned to play the harp!

Nirut was a king in the vast cosmos (in the
Second Era): lording over everybody, a
powerful man, hard eyes, not large, as many;
his father was the Blue King, first conqueror.

He was like the gods of old, his enthusiast
often told; and at times he was full of love,
and genius —yet no man could tell his fairness,
and to him nature sang!

(Shamhat) She foretold her honor and fate
and broke her vision, and slept with the King
for rich robs, he had given, and was reveled
out of her wit, for the king kept two mistresses;
but she could not play the full game, of love
and shame, for the warrior king…!
(So she claimed, so she claimed, told her heart….)

Her spirit would be broken she vowed, and craved
(so she proclaimed and proclaimed, to all)
“I wish for a simple man, to love and kiss…!”
(This lady of elite status of Lihterb.)—She was just a
Damsel to Nirut, sex, no more…and thus, she
left the king’s bed, to return no more.

It was in short time she found a young warrior
Oefro—who took her to bed, and held her fine
and fast, as his mistress, and perhaps in time
to wed… (and their lovemaking became daily).

When King Nirut heard of these tidings, he
thought, “Was my love for her nothing?”—
hence, he came with a dozen warriors in the dark
of night, surround the bedchamber, with light:

(long did she lay with Oefro, Captain of the
Fifth Division) said the jealous king) “Thy body
that was so sweet and pure, is rusted like old
nails—alas! Thy face is pale, and my Captain,
tell me what this is…? Do thy best, for you both,
sadly…pitiful—you will soon be thy ghosts!”

“Nay, nay…” said the warrior—“as this woman
lay under me, she came to me one fair night!
and she spoke with me my king, and now you
come to slay me, I know a hundred damsels,
she is but one.”

The king laid his hand on the bed, and he put
a dagger before him, it was of shinny silver,
and bright with red gold, had precious stones
as bright as Shamhat’s eyes, and said to him
accordingly: “Look, tomorrow you and I will be
right, and then shall we go to war, as customary,
where thou be, is up to ye (and Oefro took the
dagger—and then the life of Shamlaf!... ),”

“Ah!” Said the king, leave me to my grief…
I will seek counsel with Yahoo—“and Oefro’s
hands reached out to the king, and his warriors
stopped him short.

“We must now weep, and release our sorrow,
for surely she wished she had not been born!”

And the king left the chamber, and Oefro left
his way—and Nirut said, “She was the fairest
of them all, but knew not a kings heart. And now
ye understands, and will live in my heart,
evermore.

Note: No: 1908, 7-17-2007

Nirut Fights the River of Cibara (22,495) In the Conquest of Planet Cibara

2007-07-19T13:31:00.000-07:00

(22,493 BC)

Advance: the Brutes of Planet Moiromma (originally part of the: Cadaverous Planets), done in several episodes for the series (2005-2006). THE Cadaverous Planets were originally written in 2004, and added on to ever since. So for Nirut to go to conquer Moiromma, should not be unusual for the reader should she or he know the history of Moiromma, and the Cadaverous Planets, which now Nirut somewhat belongs to, and is somewhat independent of, since he is from the Black Galaxy, and Moiromma is really a neighbor to Earth’s solar system, and part of the Milky Way Galaxy.

The Brutes appear in about five episodes in the ‘Cadaverous Planets’, and is a conquering group of Moirommalits, perhaps similar to Hannibal in his day. They ruled Moiromma for a short period of time. And now Nirut has decided to conquer this planet, since he has done so to all those around Moiromma, or is doing so at the present, or about to do so.

They, the Brutes, have what is called victory fights (perhaps similar to cockfights), in the Brute Ville, close to the cave-dwelling on Moiromma, where the king lives. Kahg is presently king, and will be defending his title soon. But at present a battle is developing (a war of sorts), and Nirut is in the middle of this battle. It is a different kind of battle in that the land of Moiromma is an arctic like planet, except for summer, which is six to ten weeks lone, and it is now summer, a the present time. Yob will be trying to win the title of kingship, after the battle is over. But none of this should matter to the reader, for it is the one main battle here that counts, and the Brutes howl as they fight, howl when they die. The Moirommalits are a primitive people, race, large structured people, and when they die they have a hundred resurrections before they give up life completely. They end up usually on another planet, upon resurrection. And I think this is enough to entice you into the battle of the Trench, or armies that howl, that is now taking place on the planet Moiromma, by the Ville of Brutes. Their world has been invaded by Nirut, and there are about 20,000-inhabidents, and that is about the number of infantry Nirut has at his disposal, with his five-hundred ships, that now have landed on the planet.

Armies that Howl

Back through the sharp cold winds and across the trench they fled, the hordes of Moiromma, the Brutes, whom were cut down at the ville, hands, feet, and all—the rest, only after they reached the King’s dwellings, stood fast,
washed-out with fear, whipped in frantic flight.

This moment, Rue awoke on the heights of Adi,
beyond the valley of the Brutes, and dwellings,
King of the cosmic throne—; Nirut leaped to his feet,
as the Brutes’ army routed, rushing here and there.
Nirut attacking, and the god Rue, watched in lay,
and Marduk the demon, saw what Rue saw; struggling hard for breath, Nirut’s senses shocked, he panted,
blood pouring from his side… the man that pierced
him was among the strongest, Yob, contender for kingship
on Moiromma…perhaps in proxy, under Nirut.

At the sight of Yahoo King Kahg, of the Brutes ran,
(the strongest of men), and Rue filled with pity now.

Marduk, now shooting a dark glance down at Nirut,
burst out at him a howl (echo), “What a debacle you craft!” To uncontrollable Marduk—said, Rue, “What is your treachery—? “Halting his assault to be on Nirut’s army.

And a whirlwind from Rue spread like a whip, and
struck Marduk, on stroke, he fell to a knee—in mid-air.
And Rue slung a massive anvil with iron chains
at him, it lashed around both hands and feet…
(as below the armies of the Brutes, howled and howled
in defeat).

Kneeling there helpless, Nirut seized the moment, and
sent the Brutes plunging over one another to their deaths.
Headfirst many were hit on the head, and fell to the dirt.
Not even then did Rue lament for Marduk, or the Brutes,
the godless ones, as he called them, ‘Always plotting
miseries for your own kind, and fight for the crown of
Moiromma, save, besides those of men, as you torment
and embrace, lust and waylay, seduce the blind, and aged,
this is your reward.’ (So shuddered his voice in
thunder, so all could hear, protesting their ways.)

Note: No: 1909, 7-18-2007

The Great Boar Hunt (on Planet Lihterb)

2007-07-19T13:27:00.000-07:00

(22,497 BC)

Once a year on planet Lihterb, there was a great boar hunt, of the elite and special guests attended. Nirut invited Yahoo and Captain Oefro to join him with them, along with several generals, governors and of course the rich and famous, there were at least a hundred guests.

The Morning

The darkness faded as daylight came up,
the time for the hunt was at hand—.
The cock that crowed, woke the king
at the appointed hour; the clouds were
low, but there was darkness above them!

He walked with a long stride, in the court.
His shield on his back, as if to fight, yet
it was a boar hunt, “Do not follow close,”
he threatened, “let me win the beast!”

The Hunt

But the king dashed forward—time after time, chasing the mad boar, that raced over the mounds, and across the slopes, bogs and meadows—descending into the Sacred Valley of Lihterb. And it bit his back, as it had leaped and attacked, the feet of his horse, and the better of his two hounds stood back, as the horse collapsed, the other ran off.

Admirably he took his bow (with a poisoned diamond tipped arrows), and shot the beast through and through. (The king’s bodyguards were wearied, those bold men who seemed to have lost him, over the, slopes, mounds and meadows. Had they known his danger, they may have had reason to approach sooner.

And then over the hill, they all came with the pack of hounds, of the number that came, he could not count.

The fangs of the great boar had pierced his skin; the wounds were deep and insidious.

Feast of the Beast

These were large and dark looking hounds, shaped like bear heads, ripe for the wild boar kill, the masters of the game; but this boar was different, he was as large as a small horse, with ten-inch fangs: cruel, deadly, an ugly looking thing.

The men urged the king to be taken on back, “The hunt was bold,” he said, “by both beast and hunter—!” (To kill a wild boar with an arrow was unusual, for it was often by sword or spear); for he had thrust his arrow into the neck of the beast, then as it dropped and rolled a tinge, into its heart, deep. And the king cut out the bowels, and gave it to the group to eat, with bread.

The entire group admired the King for his slaying of the boar, ugly and dangerous, as it was, it was his score.

The king made no complaints of his wounds, showed no pain, and all dined that evening, with song and wine, and the blessed-meat, of the beast.

7-18-2007 No: 1910

Lord of Retina (Fort History of Nirut-22,484 BC)

2007-07-15T12:19:00.000-07:00

The Forth History of Nirut

Lord of Retina (22,484 BC)

Advance: the writing of the two page sketch of “The Lord of Retina,” was an add-on to the story, “The Soldiers of Nirut,” and to bring forth the complete Histories of Nirut. It tells about how Nirut came to Retina, prior to the battle and war on SSARG. We have now seen the war, and the three histories leading up to the war, but how did he come to Retina, and acquired it as a launching pad or stage for his warships? In this small sketch, written in the afternoon on Saturday, 7-14-2007, on the platform at Sophie’s house, you will now know, and find out how it all happened.
(The Story :) In those days before King Nirut went to Retina, the moon that obits SSARG´s, his legend preceded him, like his father’s; for his legend grew deep among the Lords and Kings within the planetary system of Lihterb, within the Black Galaxy. In the House of King Sorle’ el, (also known as the Angel King), whom was friends with the late Blue King, now dead, seemed to have acquired a hardened heart towards Nirut. He ruled the whole one site of the moon the eastern side, as the Great River of Retina divided two the kingdoms as well as a safe zone, being for anybody who cared to live in-between the two kingdoms, and one large expanding bridge, called The Long Bridge, that touched each side of each kings soil.
King Nirut sent a messenger (Yahoo) to ask King Sorle’el for his permission to use his soil for a launching area for an invasion, and occupation (war) he was planning in a year on SSARG. The Retina King was unresponsive to his messenger, and he was sent back by the old king to his planet Lihterb. Sorle the Lesser, as he was known, and prince of the eastern kingdom, was much in favor of allowing King Nirut to use their Kingdom for the invasion, knowing his friendship was valuable, and most likely, if they did not allow it, he would invade the Eastern Kingdom, and leave it in ruins, as he was known for. So there was more crickets in the pot, than one expected. By not answering Nirut on this matter, it only irritated him, for he knew he had welcomed the Great Siren, who conquered SSARG, long ago, and her mother Jokeleen, why not him? It was a disturbing question for him, an unanswered one. Thus, he sent back his messenger Yahoo, to get a nay or aye, but only to talk to the prince on this matter, and make a deal with him, one that would assure his kingdom would fall back to his hands once the war was over, without any incident. And should it be a nay, well, then he would need to prepare like SSARG would, for war. Over proud, perhaps he was, King Nirut, but he did at this time hold the title of Emperor of the Black Galaxy, mostly conquered by his father, but he was doing a good job of following up on where he left off, and deserved the title, that is, before given to anyone else. And so the word was sent, secretly, to Prince Sorle, to meet Yahoo, in the Tower of Kura, a great tower along the Great Retina River, a port, military compound of the King’s. There in the tower they would meet, if indeed the king would not change his mind in due time.
Faithful Marisol
After a year of silence, the King of Retina, forbade utterly the use of his planetoid for King Nirut’s, invasion plans, and said outright and publicly, he would punish anyone who helped the king, and destroy the spaceships as they landed, coming from Lihterb or Toso. Immediately after that statement, Yahoo was sent, secretly to visit the young prince, to give him an ultimatum. They met in the harbor city, called Annemor, in the Great Tower of Kura (in time this tower would be duplicated by the pre-Sumerians, from earth, around 16,000 BC, whom would built such a tower on the banks of what is now called the Black Sea, in the predawn of Atlantis, and be govern by its Capital city. Back then, it was more of valley of sand and duns, and so forth. But let me get on with Marisol, for she had a duty to perform for her husband, the prince. The prince was told five-hundred spacecraft would land shortly on Retina, and if his father hindered just one craft, Nirut would take command of the kingdom, and slay all in it, this was not to the prince’s liking, and so they made a pack, the prince and Yahoo, as he departed for the second time, and their counsel was hidden until it was time to implement the plan. Great was the anger for power in the Prince, and that his father would not listen to reason, for this desire for power, unbound and with sole dominion at his will, once Nirut left Retina, provoked him to devised a most hideous plan with Yahoo. He would use his wife to become his vessel and servant in this most dangerous matter; therefore he began in that time to prepare.
The day before the ships were to land on Retina, he commanded his wife to go see the king in his bedchambers, for he had lustful eyes on her for her for a long while, and had many a times flattered her sweet as honey with his tongue, had it not been for his son he would have taken her willing or unwillingly. She had gone into his room, dropped her gown on the floor, and used her feminist power and secrets, to subdue the king, and there was no offer of battle by him, he could not trust even the greatest of his servants, yet he felt he could trust her, and desire and bliss was in his heart, and she was crafty, well skilled it would seem, to gain what she would not by insolence, or force, she would by delicacy, and in the process kill the king, for the prince could not. And it should be pointed out; she did not become the wife of the prince by wealth uncounted, or worship, but rather by unrevealed favor, deceit and kindness, seeking to enchain this man long before he knew it. Thus she let the old man lay on her, and search for his bliss, she could not understand his old tongue, he was mumbling something in an old Retina dialect (‘You are faithful to your husband, I have seen this in prophecy, the old seer told me fifty years ago, you would come…’) and she took out a poisoned tooth from a snake, hid in a secret place amongst her body, and during lovemaking, she pricked him with it in the side, but it was lightly, and she was hesitant it did not go deep enough, but he fell to the side dead.
Sorle the Lesser, came in, proclaimed the king had died of a heart attack making love to one of his many mistresses, it was all—seemingly too simple, so Marisol felt. And the following day, the ships landed, and King Nirut was welcomed, with a grand array of gifts, and the elite of the kingdom. And now, King Sorle II, gave praise to his wife, yet she was fearful of this killing, and told the king so, that the tooth had only pricked the king’s skin. Ye they laid him to rest in a great tomb inside, and deep down into the earth, of a mausoleum of sorts, the coffin was of marble.
Death Awakes
In the following two days a change come over the land, and the hearts of the Retinaions, they loved King Nirut, he was a hero to many, but the new King, King Sorle II was controversial among his own kind. The ships came down one by one, and camps were made, tents put up, food supply lines created. The enemies of SSARG and the desert rebels on SSARG were calculated according to the risk factor. During these first days, Nirut tried to humble himself with the city folks, the castle staff, he preferred a smooth affair with the Retinaions if possible, another wise thing his father told him, ‘…prior to war, constrain yourself, keep your secrets thoughts, receive it gladly by others, use what you want, not what they want. Hold all as a hostage, even if they do not know it.’ Indeed, he learned much in a short period of time. It is he whose name is not now spoken, the King in the tomb, the mausoleum, this now concerns him, putting forward his name, I must add Marisol, for she up and disappeared one day. The Prince never found out why, but King Nirut did, and here is from the King’s own journal:
“I had asked my seer, where was Marisol? For we were all looking for her, and I went to find out, and she was where my seer said she would be, but first let me explain: “The old King of Retina woke up in his tomb, made of marble, some fifty feet deep under the soil of Retina, in a mausoleum of sold granite, in a marble coffin. He woke up in the dark no face of his people. In his castle, he was dismissed as being dead. But dead he was not. The poison paralyzed his body, slowed his heart beat, and this was his third day. He had been awake for a day, and his mind not all that fine prior to his death and burial, was now even worse, he was going insane. He had prepared himself though for this, as he had sought out his own sears fifty years prior to this, and with a forceful kick to the back of the tomb, it opened, for he had the tomb made twenty years prior, with this in mind. “None too soon was he on his feet, and crept back into the Kingdom, like a ghost, and the few guards that saw him, rubbed their eyes in dismay, and stepped back thinking he was just that, a ghost. And he crept into Queen Marisol’s bedchamber, and the old king picked up the queen, disguised her under some linen, and brought her back to the mausoleum, in the process he sedated her, lightly, so she was responsive, yet to frail to fight. What followed next was horrifying. He had had a second coffin made, out of wood, with nails a hundred of them extending through the wood, and out the other side. And he laid her down, and he with her, and dropped the wooden top over it. And with a pull of a cord, the roof caved in over the coffin, not enough to break through, for there was marble above it. And when Marisol awoke, in the wick darkness, the torment started. If she moved upwards, the nails were there. ‘Sacrifice,’ the old king said, laying next to her laughing, ‘We are the sacrifice for King Nirut.’ He lit a candle, it was but an inch long, but he wanted to look at her face, and death was on it. He remarked, ‘The plot was always set against both of us, I saw it long ago. The poison will not kill you, but these next few bitter days will, and you see my dear, power brings forth abhorrence, it is just the way it is. (And he blew out the candle.)”’

Marduk (and "The She-Ocean")

2007-07-13T15:21:00.000-07:00

Marduk
(And ‘Omen the Seer’)

[22,497 BCl]

(In the Black Galaxy)

Prolog

Omen the Seer, keeper of the souls, having second sight, a man who could make dreams or visions out of what he called his ‘Blue Focus,’ could see through walls and beyond outer limits, the dead in hell, among other things. This is whom Marduk came too eventually, and they become friends, comrade in arms. He feared no one, and was promised anything he wanted from Marduk, except part of the treasure. And now he has asked for what he wants!

He was often called upon by the cave dwellers to heal their sick, and even the King of Toso, asked his advise, and in this case, Omen saw by dwelling in the river waters for hours, in deep concentration, the treasure and the people in the cave, and sought out each tribe until he came to those faces, then he knew below their feet, was Raven. He told Marduk of this finding, whom told the Prince, Prince Nirut, whom took it to his father, the Blue King, and was acknowledge as Archwarrior of the kingdom.

Queen Sia, has died and the Blue King has taken died, and Toso is under the command of King Nirut, the year is 22,497 BC (his father has been dead for three years). Marduk has a eye for the Archrulership of Toso, not just the Great Capitol City, and Omen the Seer will be his assistant in this matter, if indeed things work out to his liking, and they just could.

Part one
Glistening in Twilight

Then at the bidding of the young King, King Nirut, Marduk went to the shore between the Great River, and the Great City Sitnalta, where companions of Toso still remained, awaiting greetings by the king, and he and the King took a boat, and the two mariners were set therein, in the glistening of the twilight, and the demon drove them away into the middle of the river, forty miles wide, and a great wind came. But they did not fear the wind; they talked of the treasure he once helped him find with Omen the Seer. And they drifted to the uttermost rim of the other side of the river, and there it was that Marduk lifted up his hands to the clouds, “I want to be Archegoverner of Toso and rule in proxy for you.”
The Blue King had given the job to another, and King Nirut had allowed him to remain in power. But he owed the demon, and he knew Omen the Seer was now his bosom friend, without his remaining on the planet to watch over it, it would be simply a matter of time he’d dominate it.

Now fair and marvelous was the Archkingdom made, and it was filled with a towering waving flame the entire city could see, and for miles around.
Far he had journeyed in his ship to see this kingdom at night, and the starless sky, and the all saw this young king in the mornings and in the evenings while on this planet, all the women wishing he’d choose a wife. He was contemplating what Marduk had asked, yet he knew the legends of the Gifted Ones, would they allow him to turn it over to a demonic force. He knew you could not make deals with devils, yet he came to another pathless void, he loved the planet Toso in his own way, it remained him of his youth as a kid. He had learned the tongues of he animals, the people, and the cave dwellers. He had met Adra, when he was but thirteen years old on a journey for his father, to find the Raven. She was at that time, his age, now she was the pride of the city, she was the first Assistant Governess. If he allowed Marduk to take over, he would have to put restrictions on him, lest he violate her, and then he’d have to war with him, and he did not want that, he wanted to get his army ready to conquer planet SSARG, which would be off in the future some years.
Moreover he knew he did not have forever to do what he needed to do, for his kind died young, but conquered quick, his advisers had told him such philosophies of other kings and warriors, even his sear that saw the future told him Japer the Lesser Seer. So he would allow him to take command, prepare for battles to be, and beneath his purple banners march on Toso if need be to take it back, what could he lose, he thought. But there could be a problem, Zoo-Loo, ruled by proxy now, per orders of the Blue King, and himself. He was of a great age, but well loved by the people, he could estranged the proxy king from the Lords of the great kingdom, Sitnalta if need be, but when he told the old king his wishes he seemed to be content in his blissful realm away form the Great City, The Gardens of Nodiesop, hence he took his retirement.

Part Two
The New King by Proxy

And so it was proclaimed, Marduk was Archegoverner, and Adra Assistant Archegoverner, and Omen the Seer, Marduk’s adviser, subject to Nirut’s rule. Zoo-Loo retired, with Celina his wife, and Kink Nirut, with his body guard Yahoo went back to Lihterb, with their seer Japer the Lesser.
Marduk knew, as everyone knew the young king was reckless, but headstrong, and would not hesitate to his death to take back what he felt was being covertly taken from him. Therefore, he was secretive on all his moves.
His first orders was to kill Zoo-Loo and his wife, his second orders were to dig up the old City of the Raven, the one Nirut reburied for posterity’s sake. The third order was to keep Adra under house arrest. And now he felt he could do as he pleased, the city and the planet were under his heel. Few of neither the city’s Plantons (Secret Guards) nor the cave dwellers, were willing to go forth to war, forth remembered the slayings Marduk had done in the past, but when given the chance, Adra, hearkened to Gunwale to take command of the city before it sunk to the depths of disparity and discrepancy, the chief commander of the Plantons.
Yet they all remained quiet in the great city, none of them set foot into the throne room—Gunwale, when called for.

Part Three
The Hidden Days on Lihterb

Of Nirut’s return to Lihterb, and his preparations for war with SSARG, little is written or documented in any journals, or tales, for among them, went no scribes during these days, only of his account on SSARG, thereafter, and while on Toso. And who made the histories of those days in-between are still unknown. But some things are know and learned long afterwards from Yahoo’s memoirs in the Northern Castle of Lihterb. Yahoo called these, “The Hidden Days on Lihterb.” Only found after his death, and I shall read them now to you:

“I Yahoo, remember the host of hosts, King Nirut, when he took meeting with the king of the West of Lihterb. He had conquered him long before, but there was a new proxy king in those far off lands. And there was a Great Battle; it was called by the king, “The War of Irritation.”
Young King Fang took power of his kingdom while Nirut was gone to Toso, and was trying to contain it when he arrived back. It had become somewhat more powerful, than the Nirut could recount, and was talking about war. Nirut did not want to war with the king, he wanted to get ready for a war with SSARG, the planet his father could not take.
But it availed him not to try and avoid him, he became a nuisance. And so King Nirut took all his armies, which numbered at this time, 200,000, for his city and lands had now populated to One million. And he took his army to the boarders of the West Kingdom of Lihterb, where Fang’s army awaited. And I shall tell you this now in brief, for it was a quick war to say the least. Perhaps he had 50,000-soldiers, but less armed, and less skilled than Nirut’s.
The Lihterbeans soldiers, save a few that needed to guard the city, Nirut’s Army, hit the Western Army so hard the fled the first day and hid themselves in the grasslands, caves, places inaccessible you’d think for a man of their size cold fit, even under large roots of trees. These untrained legions of the Western province of Lihterb perished like old twigs falling off a tree, and caught in a fire.
And the few that survived this great victory did not remain to trouble the world any longer, for King Nirut killed them as the tried to escape his lance. The problem was it would take long years now to re-supply his army to get ready for SSARG.
He was learning what his father had had taught him: take charge or someone else would; trust no one, at the end; they always turn to self interest. Thus, he avenged in one day and his brother Niruh, was the commanding general in this battle, and Nirut was proud of his actions. The enemy was hung in the middle of the Great City of the North; King Fang was marched through the streets to his gallows.

Part Four
Marduk’s Future

The Great Mother Beast, the Tiamat

Marduk hearing of Nirut’s victory, and how his host had overthrown the command of King Fang, drew forward, instead of quailed, and publicly killed Adra, announcing it publicly, saying she was a trader and trying to have the Plantains take over his kingship. But he did not dare to tell the King Nirut himself, he let the news drift back by setting his foe free, The Marshal Commander of the Plantains, Gunwale, after disfiguring him, by cutting off his nose, and ears, and cutting open his armpits so he could no longer threw lances in war, or protect the king, he was in essence showing Nirut, his people were helpless, yet he feared the young king, but it was his nature he was fighting, he could leave it at a laisser-faire, but could he for long, and how long, and now his army was bare to the bones you could say, a good time to fight and provoke one, set the white shinning flame.

(What Marduk wanted was a kingdom, Omen the Seer, had told him future, time, perhaps fifteen thousand years, he would be involved with the Tiamat (the great mother creature from the sea) on planet Earth, that there was a battle in the air with those of a city called Yort, and a man called Sinned, and the Tiamat, who came to this great city after the fall of Atlantis. That his time was really now or never, because he would not rule Yort for long, a sudden ruinous was the onset of a dreadful look on hi face. He was set back in his throne, great cries moans were coming out of his mouth, lightening form his eyes, a tempest of fire from his mouth.)

And Omen the Seer, explained to Marduk who the Tiamat was, for she was a creature like him, and here is how he explained it:

The Tiamat and Marduk’s Paths
(Part of the Tiamat Tales)

(Previously called: The Fortress called Yort)

The Great City of Yort, 6800 BC to 6000 BC

“The Tiamat will escape the great winters of 9600 BC, when Atlantis will sink, and the creation of a new continuant will be born, called “The Frozen Lands of Poseidon” (present day Antarctica).
At this time, a great catastrophe will have taken place upon the continent of Europe, and Asia as well as—all the way down the Southern Atlantic (geographically Murdock knew the land masses), the underground, bottom of the sea, will open up and swallow much of what is land, turned it upside down, or so it will seem, cover what didn’t sink with mud. Legend will say, it was then called ‘The Land of Sorrows,’ of which much of the Atlantean elite, left the so called tips of the mountains of what was left of Atlantis and fled to Crete and Egypt, creating a new race and life, and a secret society within these societies, that would someday become worldwide.
At this time, many of the inhabitants will have fled to a land near the Black Sea, where now stands Troy, but before Troy, it was Yort. It is a land set aside, alone on a mountain top, sort of. It will be able to guard itself from the many nations that would in time envy her. A great enclosure her people will build, and man and beast will marvel at Yort’s great walls, the envy of the new world, other than Atlantis, or Sitnalta, its equal or superior. Gilgamesh will try to copy these same walls in his day (2700 BC), the demigod from Sumer. As in this time, you will try to conquer her, but will fall short of doing so. The Tiamat will be your nemesis, as you hers.

(Omen the Seer hesitates, watches King Marduk, as he nods to continue with the story of the future, and his reckoning on earth, although he will not get the full story of his demise.)

The Tiamat will withdraw from the islands in the Atlantic and during the eruption will cast into the frozen waters of what will be know as, the new land, Antarctica.
At this time, Yort, will be but a few months old, being built after the destruction of the old world order, which was by the leadership of Atlantis, thus, the first king of Yort was but a King for a very short period of time, called Hellsink (He was as wicket as he was sadistic but not as sadistic as you of course, my fair king, Marduk: he had courage alright, and people of Yort grew to dread him and his ways: he loved the hunting of the wild bear and humans, with hidden eyes. He was at one time an Atlantean with a tinge of Greek heritage in him, a simple soldier you could add, who now became a king. He would take at will, and call it his right, the brides to be in Yort, and if there was any resistance, he would kill the whole family of the bride, to include the groom, again I say, liken to you. (the Seer was not trying to be disrespectful to his King, he was simply trying to be upfront, and show what he saw, and make comparisons to the king, ones he knew he could understand.)
Sunrise, the king’s young wife, also of Atlantean stock, but with Egyptian blood who feared the king less than anyone, above all, loved her new found kingdom. In truth, she proved to be a better Queen, than the king. Straight she walked, and tall, for she had come from a royal house in the Port of Poseidonia, the land of Atlantis. And although the king would rule for less than two years, she would rule for one hundred and twenty-seven, and die at the ripe old age of 175-years old. But of course she is not your kind, and loved order.
And so this is the history of the beginnings of Yort, and the coming of the Tiamat, and the winter she would withdraw from the South lands, to find her new nest. And this is your future history that will never satisfy you, thus, you must make well now.”
Part Five
Beasts of the Abyss

Thus, and end was made of the power of Marduk in the North of Toso, and the evil realm he was building to nil; for out of the deep abyss a multitude of lotus-dragons appeared, with seven foot wing spans, and stingers at the ends of their tail that once stung paralyzed, and teen of the saber tooth tiger. They were set free, the abyss door opened, and they came forth, they wanted to help Marduk, for they were of his nature, but could not, they were beyond all hope and salvation, and never say the light of day for a million years, and they looked upon this planet with eyes full of confusion. The made a great noise, adversaries they were for the northern regions of this planet, and were rent asunder. They had made an oath to the Cobbler, the Gifted One, the overseer of the planet, the little god, the Archangel, that if he as to open the abyss, they would destroy the army of Marduk. They had no choice, they were reluctant, but self interest prevailed, and they sought the paths of sunshine in the valleys and hills and cities of Toso, and created upheaval, trotted down the enemy like rodents and picked them up one by one and then tore them to pieces, and stung them, there were 10,000 of these beasts.
Then Marduk summed Omen the Seer, asked him why he did not see this coming. And all he said was, “Prepare to face weariness and loathing, despair, for the enemy is beyond King Nirut, it is of Rue, the victorious host of heaven, even I cannot see his mind, or the mind of his God.
“What can I do?” asked Marduk in despair.
“Bidding you yield up your arms, and go before you are formerly possessed by the Beasts of the Abyss, for they have been instructed to bring you down to its depths for a merciless amount of time, into its blinding darkness, slay you day after day, assault you by ordrs of the heavens. Make your escape while you can, and avoid the judgment.”
Marduk’s heart was indeed sorrowful, and he said, “Will it be that I will never be forgiven and the Cobbler and Rue never forget what I have done to the peace here, and I will never be able to return?”
“Foolish devil,” said the seer, “Why would you want to come back when the beasts of the Abyss gave oath to bring you down to is depths, what dreadful doom do you seek, if you disobey me, you will go into the unholy realm!”

Sirgylam and the Cannibal Beasts

And there came ten beasts from the abyss came at him, like flying dragons, and they tried to grab him, and in the process he threw the seer at the one beast called, Shames, and in front of the other called Humbaba, the third Sirgylam, Noge, Roe, Azaz ‘el, Semyas, Dog-face were all surrounding both of them: all demonic beasts reshaped to the abyss’ needs and desires, everlastingly. These were worse creatures than the other beasts; they had a craving for flesh to eat. And the seer could not foretell his own fate, and just before he was clawed up by Sirgylam to his doom, like an eagle picking up a rat from off the surface, he told Marduk, “Who can tell what dreadful doom we shall come to, if we try to go beyond the rim of heaven, and mock the servants of God Almighty!” And he was eaten alive, at which time; Marduk became invisible, journeyed back to earth.

Afterwards: Perhaps both the Seer and Marduk, went beyond the circles of the planets, perhaps they forgot, the Watchers were watching, indeed Marduk forgot the abyss of the everlasting darkness, if anything, it was perhaps one of his wisest things to move on. It was a battle King Nirut did not have to fight, and when he heard about it, then all his lands were raised to praise the God of Heaven.

Nirut and the She-Ocean (and how the Nirut Series was written)

2007-07-13T15:19:00.000-07:00

Nirut and the She-ocean

[6800 BC to 22,490 BC]

(In the On Earth and in the Black Galaxy)

Prolog

This is the 4th in the series of tales on “Nirut…” written out 7-12-2007.The original story, or better put, the She-Ocean’s first appearance on paper was in the Tiamat trilogy, she comes up only in a few chapters, in around the year 6800 BC, but her birth was long before that epoch, she dates back fifteen years before the date Nirut took her to earth, in 22,490 BC, in which she was fifteen years old. And the premise of this story, involves her roots, which have never been told until now.

Prelude: The Adversary, as he was called when thrown out of heave for his evil dealings, came to dwell on earth, among living men, he could take up his form to be as a man, and cohabitate with women, which he did; on the other hand, he could and did shape change, return to his immortal spirit form, at will. All who saw him on earth, or saw his kind, for there were others like him, were both glad for is evilness he taught, and fearful of his doom he presented. Nirut in time would look into his eyes, and read the doom there.

The Story

She walks only by night, so it is said, the She-Ocean, whom sleeps among the old ruins of Pergamun, in Asia Minor, the Adversary’s Throne. She is considered to be the mistress, the fairest of all of them, to the Adversary. From the hills of Yort, to the Black Sea, and beyond, she is renowned, all there who dwell know of her. Even the elite of hell’s domain have come to draw to here side for comfort. It wasn’t always that way though.
She is acquainted with grief and has a story like every one else to tell that has not been told yet, this one, in the annuals of the Tiamat, and King Nirut’s. She had at one time fallen in love with Sinned, a young warrior from Yort. And when he left, so great was her sorrow, not even the Adversary saw that deep into her soul. For five-hundred years she did limitations over him. It is fare to say, she no longer weeps over him. But I must bring you back to her time on Lihterb, for she was not from planet Earth, oh, no, not at all.

She had a second love, a childhood sweetheart you could say, and that is the premise of the story, somewhat, also to let you know King Nirut was familiar with Earth, but this will be the only story you will ever read of him coming to earth, and I shall tell you why soon.

Long before the days of Yort, and Pergamun as I said before, the young beauty lived on Lihterb she was born there, before she crossed the boarder of the Black Galaxy to enter Earth’s solar system, and the Milky Way. Her mother was one who brought sorrow to wisdom, and her father was no other than the famous seer, Japer the Seer, King Nirut’s adviser. Nirut grew fond of her, and her beauty, she was but fifteen years old when they met for a short term relaltionship.

(22,490 BC)

Ocean, was her name, the She part would come later, when she would become an entity for Earth’s orbit.
Her beauty was timeless, with golden hair, and bronze skin, thick lips, and a firm shapely body her voice sounded like echoes. She delighted in dancing and singing; she loved the lands of Lihterb and the legends of Toso, as they grew, especially those of the now dead king, the Blue King, and the growing fame of Nirut.

The Horns of the Host of Hell

She dwelt with her family in the acropolis of the Northern Kingdom of Lihterb. She was a health giver in the House of Life (a nurse of sorts), and she was the keeper of souls slain in battle, at the temple site of the city, she prayed for the heroic deed. She had a mind like a pure diamond, never forgetting a thing, and able to have visions and dreams, those that would tell the future, and she saw her self in Egypt, on a planet called Tiamat II, or Earth. And a huge creature with ten wings called the Adversary. Was this just a dream or was this her fate, it was at the moment her nightmare, night after night, it was her pain, her grief, and she knew if that was her life to be, then she had to take advantage of the moment. Perhaps, especially in her case, one of mans most precious gifts is not to foretell the future.

At this time, Nirut with his brother Niruh, battled many small nations and readied him self for the great conquest to be on planet SSARG. And he took Ocean with him, and loved her in his own selfish way. And did for her what her father did for him, take her on the great hunts, such as, hunting the beasts of the mountains on Lihterb, and the hounds and Tor-rats on Toso, and then he wanted to do the great hunt of the Mantic are, and they were only known to be on Earth, or planet SSARG, and he was not ready for SSARG, so he went to Earth.
There in Egypt he sought the mantic ore out, and the unicorn, and the then he heard of the creature, which was neither man nor beast, known as the Adversary, and he now sought him out, and to his dismay, he found him.

All flowers on Earth seemed to bow to this youthful beauty from Lihterb, and so did she catch the eye of the Adversary whom was standing like a towering statue on top of a hill, looking down with many other spirits. He took a second glance at Ocean.

Now here is told in the brief of what took place that fatal day in Egypt, from the annuals of King Nirut, found after his death:

“The Adversary as they called him was way beyond my thoughts. He could do more than any monster or demon. Shape change at will, lift trees out from under their giant roots, catch eagles with his eyes and paralyze them, he was the king of this land. I was hunting something I knew nothing about. I perhaps owe my life to Ocean, for had she not been there, I would not have made it back to Lihterb, or my 2000-man army. After seeing him up close, and hearing him, and seeing what he could do, he was like Rue of Toso, a little god, and more powerful than the Gifted Ones. For I never heard of them doing what I saw the Adversary could do. He became a hundred feet tall, then six hundred feet tall, than seven feet tall, in a matter of minutes, perhaps seconds.
He said to me, “You are out of your boundaries, too bad…” and I read in his eyes, doom, and Ocean read in my eyes, doom. His followers were similar to him, and I could not understand their tongues. They could speak in several languages. He could suppress my army in a matter of minutes, if not seconds I knew now. What could I do, I made a deal with him, that I do not regret to this day, yet I do deep down in my heart. I offered him Ocean, and she accepted, to save our lives, although she did not say that, I knew that, and he agreed to allow us to leave unharmed, but should I return for She-Ocean, for he named her that, at that moment, it would my doom, as well as my army’s doom. And so we were set free of this deadly force beyond our control. She became a legend and hero on Lihterb, and will live long after my death, for her sacrifice to her king.”

She-ocean, never did leave Earth again, but lived way beyond Nirut’s life time, and became the host for Sinned of Yort, and the mistress of the Adversary. On the other hand, Nirut never did return to Earth, he didn’t know how to subdue the Adversary, or his followers, as Sinned would in future time and so back on Lihterb, he readied for the Great Battle, and wars to be, on planet SSARG, nor did he live that long to think about returning, even if he wanted to.

(See the first part of this story called, “The Solders of Nirut,” the battle of SSARG.)

Notes on the writing of: “Nirut and the She-Ocean”

Notes on, “Nirut and the She-Ocean”: Today (7-12-2007) I ended up writing on the Platform again, in Huancayo, after having lunched a few blocks from Mini’s house, hamburger steak, eggs and potatoes, and a cup of coffee, and coke. Then I found myself sitting the platform writing under the rays of the penetrating sun. Some dark clouds seeping over towards the Andes, I almost prayed they stay away until I finished this short sketch of “Nirut and the She-Ocean,” and to my surprise it did.
In the trilogy I wrote about the Tiamat, in 2002, in one or two of the books the She-Ocean come to light, she is a wonders woman indeed, more like a sly cat, with powers beyond the normal, in the 6th millennium BC, in the time of Yort, the city in Asia Minor on earth.
The outline was all written out in about four hours; I am redoing, and reading the three pages I wrote out. One can learn about her in a few of the chapters of the Tiamat books, but you it doesn’t really tell you her background. Where she came from, and how she ended up in Egypt, and how the Adversary and she became a unit almost. This story tells all, in addition, it gives you a glimpse at Nirut’s first and final voyage to earth. The picture of the She-ocean was drawn January, 2005, long after I wrote my first words concerning her.

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Notes on writings of: “Marduk (and, ‘Omen the Seer’)

…this story, “Marduk (and ‘Omen the Seer’)” was started on 7-12-2007, 1:23 AM, the first paragraph written on Omen the Seer, indicating in the year 22,487, they became allies on Planet Toso, now governed by King Nirut, his third year in command. Also, “Glistening Twilight¨,” was written that night. Parts Two and Three were written in the morning of the 12th of July, the “New King by Proxy,” “The Hidden Days on Lihterb.”
In part four, “Marduk’s Future,” comes the story of: “The Creation of Yort,” part of the Tiamat series, written 6-21-2007, Part I of III, was added into this story, to enhance the progress “Marduk…” for Marduk was part of the Tiamat Trilogy written in 2002, but this author never saw it fitting to give him a story of his own, much less a title to a story, except for now. The story was reedited to fit the content of “Marduk…’ and given a name change to “The Tiamat and Marduk’s Paths” which is more befitting, I feel, and redone in a more narrative form. It seems in all my writings, Marduk sneaks into my accounts, and the Tiamat always gets front billing, so here it is for Marduk, once and for all. Marduk is a bully of course, like the Tiamat, but the Tiamat ha proven over time to be more cleaver, and wise in knowing when to step back. Marduk is too involved with his ego to notice such little irritable qualities and seems never to, and thus, ends up with less than what he started with. The fifth part was finished by 2:00 PM, on the 12th, which entailed, “The Beasts of the Abyss,” and “Sirgylam and the Cannibal Beasts,” and the afterwards.

Notes on the writing of “The Soldiers of Nirut”

Notes on how the story was written, “The Soldiers of Nirut,” material taken from the handwritten manuscript written 11 thru the 17 of June, 2007 (more of an outline, the death of Nirut was not figured out in the outline, but rather in the afternoon 6-27-2007 (ten days later), although I had expectations to kill him off prior to this, perhaps right from the beginning), and reedited and revised, and sections rewritten between 6-24 to 6-27-2007, in manuscript form, and in sections, then rewritten again on the computer, and revised; some of the new material added was the poetry, and the Devil-Bates; some of the outline was redone and the old left out, and some characters left out that seemed to simply get in the way (this represents the short version of the story, 25-chapters left out): written in Huancayo, Peru, under the sunny sky, with a cup of coffee in my hands, at my sister in-law’s house, Mini and Sophie’s (they live next to each other). The version of “In the Cell of the Dungeon,” Part Six to the series of “The Soldiers of Nirut,” done in three sections, were structured in poetic form to create a more smooth, dependable, and emotional version of the story, done in the afternoon of 6-28-2007. In the story it implies the dungeons, but never captures its full meaning, hopefully this will shed some light on it. I have been in many prisons, being a counselor, and working for the government. I have also worked with the female populations in prisons, and kept notes from prisoners form the Philippines. With this in mind, I created my own prison of sorts for the short story, in the understructure of the Quiet Mound, the one Siren the Great had made in previous stories I created of her.

During the first two weeks of July, I wrote what might be considered a link into Nirut’s life, called “The Tosollions (and: the God’s of Rue),” the guts of the beginning of the story was taken from three stories I wrote some time ago, called “The Think Tank,” which the second part of the three part story was inspirited by Greg Bear, Science Fiction writer, in the United States, whom I talked to briefly in person and by internet. The ‘Think Tank,’ was originally written in three acts (Libra, Orion, and Mars), and its ideas were interwoven into this new adventure which again I say, “The Soldiers of Nirut,” was the end, where as the new story is Nirut’s roots, with his father the Blue King, and more.

Notes on writings: “The Tosollions (and “The God’s of Rue”)

…this story, “The Tosollions (and “The God’s of Rue”) inspired in part, and originally made into a play with three Acts (sometime in 2002, Act One: ‘Libra’). After talking to Greg Bear, Science Fiction writer, whom I met in Roseville, Minnesota, 5-8-2003, I got the notion to write the second act to the story at that time called ‘Free Will’ the original story called (Act Two, ‘Orion’), ‘The Think Tank’. He said, “We are given free will and maybe should consider if we were so lucky, so were others (meaning out in the fast unknown). And so I thought about that, and this story now comes from the roots of previous works, and his inspiration, and new works. A third act was added to the story (Act three: Mars).

Here we find a complete new story, enhanced, for the theme, plot and insight of the previous story which was at best an ancient drama on stage without much power or better put, this new story (with 50 percent old parts) is more coherent, less disharmony, and is internally self consistent. It can be considered in way, the extending tentacles of “The Soldiers of Nirut,” (in particular the time of his father, the Blue King)since much of the world he lived in, is part of this story. It is may not be clear exactly who is the main character is, since this is a sage, The Surveillant, or Rue, is the Black Galaxy’s overseer, known in the upper world, or spiritual world as Ratavuil, and to the planetary worlds of the Galaxy, Rue. The Cobbler is part of the Think Tank, or seemingly, the director of the group. And then we get into the many characters that make up the story, yet there are just a few that will stand out, so it should not be too confusing. One may want to pick out Nirut or the Blue King as the main Character, and either one very well could be. But it is in sections or parts, and in essence, we can find a hero or main character in each part; perhaps the benefactor is Toso itself.

In the writing of the Story “The Tosollions (and ‘The God’s of Rue’), originally written at Mini and Sophie’s house, outside on the platform, under the Huancayo, Peru sky, with a dark cup of coffee. The Prolog was written out 7-9-2007, which gave me an outline beyond the ‘Think Tank,’ and used for the first four parts 1 thru 4, in the short manuscript, not used this book, written out on tablet paper, as an extended outline, although used for the guts of the story. The story really becomes a story, taken from many of my previous ‘Cadaverous Sketches,” I’ve written the past few years, or since 2004, incorporated here. Then out of fifteen, and half pages we get the story of the Blue King, and Nirut, written out on the 10 of July, 2007, and the second part of “The Soldiers of Nirut.” Not quite planned that way, for I still have 25-unused chapters written during the writing of “The Soldiers of Nirut,” and as I have said, for parts to the new story, I have not used written 7-9-2007. Part four of he original four parts not used, the story of “Omen the Seer,” was extracted from the Manuscript on 7-12-2007, and placed in it proper place in the story, under the section of, ‘The Golden Raven.’
The four parts “The Tosollions and the Gifted ones,” “Sitnalta and the First King,” “The Lessers” three of the four parts, were used because they were interjected into the Prolog somewhat, only part four, “Omen the Seer,” was directly used from the manuscript.

2007-07-10T13:26:00.000-07:00

The Tosollion (And the Cod’s of Rue)

By Dennis L. Siluk Dr. h.c.

Part of the Cadaverous Planets

[123,000 BCl]

(In the Black Galaxy)

Preface: this story, “The God’s of Rue,” was inspired, and originally made into a play with three Acts (sometime in 2002, Act One: ‘Libra’). After talking to Greg Bear, Science Fiction writer, whom I met in Roseville, Minnesota, 5-8-2003, I got the notion to write the second act to the story at that time called ‘Free Will’ the original story called (Act Two, ‘Orion’), ‘The Think Tank’. He said, “We are given free will and maybe should consider if we were so lucky, so were others (meaning out in the fast unknown). And so I thought about that, and this story now comes from the roots of previous works, and his inspiration, and new works. A third act was added to the story (Act three: Mars). Here we find a complete new story, enhanced, for the theme, plot and insight of the previous story was at best an ancient drama on stage without much power or better put, it is more coherent, less disharmony, and is internally self consistent. It can be considered in way, the extending tentacles of “The Soldiers of Nirut,” since much of the world he lived in, is part of this story. One, if not the main character, for it is may not be clear exactly who is, since this is a sage, The Surveillant, or Rue, is the Black Galaxies overseer, known in the upper world, or spiritual world as Ratavuil, and to the planetary worlds of the Galaxy, Rue. The Cobbler is part of the Think Tank, or seemingly, the director of the group. And then we get into the many characters that make up the story, yet there are just a few that will stand out, so it should not be confusing.

◊

Part One

[In the Black Galaxy, the Cobbler is mumbling to himself about getting a group together, thinking out loud, walking – pacing back and forth about what is on his mind]

The Cobbler had gathered together a Think Tank. It has been a long time since he and his several comrades have got together. These special people have exceptionally long life, matter-of-fact; none of them have died yet; if indeed they can. They can eat, but don’t seem to taste whatever they eat. They think, but do not have dreams. They can give birth to children, but do not have sex, and have not produced any children to their knowledge. They drink for the experience of it, as they do in breathing, and they do not feel any motion in do it, or doing motion, yet they move, and so do other things about them. Perhaps they have lost several things in the past, and they just can’t figure out what they are. That is why I have called them the Think Tank.
The Cobbler has an idea, and together with his friends he feels they can solve this problem, that is to say, ‘…what they are missing.’ If they could, and I think they would, try to create a race that would benefit from them.

The Cobbler has expressed now to his group: “Legend says at one time there was what they called a god or God, the difference being if I write, or say it as: “god” it is indicating you know of him, and if you write or say it: ‘God’, it is that you are a being of him, and I guess my kind, I am calling myself a spices now, as if we have already created a new being, since I am going to try and convince the committee here to create a new being, we know ‘god’ in that kind of way, meaning, of him, if you get my meaning. And I want to try to remake the lost connection. Somewhere along the line, we misplaced him, and perhaps his creator. I had a thought, it said at one time there was Rue, and he has been patient with us, and he created us, and he had children, and they are the watchers. And being of god, or created by god, makes us less than what we really thought we were, because we thought we were god’s, but we live in avoid, so designed by us. If we could create something, with his blessings, we could do some good for something, or someone, similar to us.”
And that is what he said to the group.

“Oh yes, yes,” said the Colonel, “I think he got mad eons ago at us, now that my memory seems to be coming back. And we felt we did not need him, and became accustomed to doing our own thing.”

(The group is getting situated in the middle of the star system to talk more on the subject of recognition of god or God, and what is there plan: the Cobbler, pulls up chair with stars on them, here they all are: the General, the Captain, the Colonel, the Governor, the Pious One, the Want to be King,, and the Cobbler make seven. The have lived 100,000-years, it is now the Earth year, 23,000 BC)

The General complains of his trillion mile voyage to this part of the Black Galaxy, as they all sit in a circle. The King, the older one of the seven, whom the little god created first, is restless, and expects a tinge more courtesies than when he’s be getting, and is a bit moody today. The Captain, a leader of sorts, is a talkative creature, but is waiting for someone to start back up the group. The Cobbler is the counselor of sorts. The Colonel is kind of a scientist of sorts, difficult to talk to, but humble in his own way.
In the process of talking about god and God, and creating a being, so comes up such simple things as antivirus, and the ingredients for cells. They figured it out that if god created them, and God created Rue, then they could create a lesser form of life. The Colonel has a daughter named Hu, and figures she may came in handy. She is not of the seven per se, but somehow was created overnight when the King woke up one day, and found he did not have a Rib. Actually this is kind how it all started. The King told the Cobbler about this, and the Cobbler figured god had done this to get their attention. This all sparked the meeting.
The Cobbler is a bit uncomfortable, and tries to situation the gasses he is sitting on, which formed into a chair—deep space can become unconformable. The King wants to go into a different Galaxy, the Milky Way, and form life on Planet Tiamat II (known to us folks as Earth, or the Blue Planet). There are species there at this moment, he tells the group, he snuck and out of that Galaxy, so he claims, some time ago. It is a stellar system he has acquired a liking for. The Pious One feels perhaps they can mix their genes with the Blue Planets inhabitants, and create a third kind of creature, that will do good, not based on self interest.

(Everyone now is sitting on their frozen gassy- colorful looking sofa chairs.)

The Governor, surrealistically, says he wants the group to try to give those inhabitants on Tiamat II, long lasting chromosomes, because they only live between 100- to 1000 years, and then they break, like everything in the two galaxies they’ve discovered, cascades that is. Like a ball, some day the whole thing is going to come to its destination, and drop, so he claims.
As I was about to say, the Governor said in his surrealistic tone”…lizards live longer than those folks,”
And the Pious One adds, “That is true, but God, not god, is involved with that planet, it is best we shift to anther, like one in the Black Galaxy, as we planned on doing.”

The Cobbler suggests they not be too surprisingly spontaneous, and seek out Rue. And they all agree. And then he adds, “We are you know, the gifted Ones.”

Part Two

The Gifted Ones
And Marduk

In the Beginning: There was Rue, the Holy One, so knowing in the Black Galaxy, or also known as Ratavuil, in other parts of the Universe. And he made the several being belong to the Think Tank. He did not make Marduk; he was of his own making on Earth (or Tiamat II, around the year 75,000 BC, a demonic creature.) Rue himself was created, 1.6 million years ago, an angelic being, formed by God Almighty, and given control over the Black Galaxy. It has now taken 100,000-years for the Think Tank to put it back together. It was in the beginning they loved Rue, but somehow all went their own ways. He called them the Gifted Ones, and had high hopes for them, until they turned up their noses to him.
Rue had children of flesh and spirit, half-breeds you could say, and when he had them, he instructed them to be Watchers over the planets of the Black Galaxy, such as SSARG, and Lihterb, and the moon Retina: and he borrowed some of his sons to other angelic beings who watched over planets next to Earth’s solar system, such as Cibara, and Moiromma, and the moon Ice-cap. And so forth, and so on.
But the gifted ones really did little to enhance their statues either in the galaxy, or in finding Rue, except for now. And so he spoke to them.
Marduk at this time was either on earth or Lihterb, since he and his comrades had lost the battle on SSARG, with King Nirut. He was, or is the strongest of all the demonic creatures of hell, to include the Tiamat, whom he fought in the year, or thereabouts, 6800 BC, in the outskirts of the city, Yort, in Asia Minor. He had also fought the demonic beings the Ram-god, and the Baboon-god, and a few others, to claim his dominance.
When Rue spoke to the Gifted Seven, he told them about the Marduk, the doom of Earth at one time, that he would have the freedom of the Black Galaxy to inhabit. The Cobbler was not happy to hear that, and asked why?
“First, you should not fear him, second, you must start to unfold your history, you’ve been indolent for eons, and third, get out of your void, design and discover, you have been given the power, learn the mind of your enemy. I will be where I’m always, on the ‘Summit of Mystery, if you seek me, you will find me, as you already have.”
Rue was an angelic being, or god of a little sort, given special powers over a whole galaxy, and yet, the Gifted did not quite recognize all this yet.

Part Three
The Creation

٭

And so it was ordained on the 9th day of July, 22,999 BC the creatures of Toso, were infected with a mutative virus that would change them forever. Consequently, balancing the system, and allowing the creatures on the planet to become part of the universal body of thinkers, with reason, desire and free will, created by the Think Tank, the new beings called Neiklots or Neiklot, or Torsions, since they were from planet Toso, in the Black Galaxy, at which time it was mostly uninhabited, but had strange beings on it, more like Earth’s Australopithecine (ecus) more of an extinct African ape, having restrictive features linking it to humankind, of the Pleistocene epoch over a million years ago. For the Gifted Ones, this was the beginning.
Marduk, was close by, he was watching the beginnings of this new creation.

‘Chrysie & Plantain’

(The Planet Toso) For the most part it is a barren landscape, yet it has many sand dunes throughout its environment, again, a tranquilizing picture for the Gifted Ones. Plus, the one outstanding thing seems to be the elite group sees the beautiful sunset, it has never been seen by them while on an orb, it is unlike any other they have seen and perhaps a gift for their going forward. With such colors, because it is close to the sun, comes in whites, blues and reds; and as all these lights, and particles reflect back and forth from the sun to the planet, a raw looking surface, but beautiful are the reflections in the sky: reds and whites appears with multidimensional threads of soft luster; -- consequently, one that you can only stand in awe of, and wonder how its creator, painted such an ongoing beautiful picture. It is like a big golden red egg, looking over the horizon onto a planet, red lava pours from a nearby volcano, while the rays of the sun press outward, as if to create a circle like effect, not quite like that of Venus, of which it is a 360 degree angle circle, rather more like a 45-degree outward burst.

Here they found two of their so called linking African Apes, with a tinge of humanity in them. They watched those creatures drawing pictures on the walls, cave walls, as if they were temples. They started to look up to the stars thereafter, as if to find god, or God, or the Gifted Ones. And a few times they did see one of the Gifted Ones, and hid. At this point, a few years decades into the experiment, the main genetic material they gave them, was working, and so they gave them a booster. The couple they watched the closest was Chrysie and Plantain (born 22,999 BC).
(In time, a kingdom would sprout from these two individuals on the planet, and produce a son, King Vii whom would become king of Sitnalta (founded: 22,778 BC), the first kingdom on Toso. And their daughter, Lady of the Moon, whom would be Queen; they would produce a daughter Sia, who would rule the kingdom. Vii and Moon, twins, brother and sister, born 23,978 BC, married 22, 958, BC, died 22,728 BC). Princess Sia, born 22,957 BC, takes over the kingdom 22,727 BC, rules it until 22, 677 BC, when she died.
At that time there was a war in the Galaxy, by the Blue King of Planet Lihterb, whom took over the planet, and ruled it through proxy: his name was Zoo-loo. His special guards were called Plantons, and his wife Celina. In time, the Blue King’s son would rule the Galaxy, and Planet Tose, Prince Nirut. But not for a while, this was much before his time. The Blue King would rule for 176-years, and Prince Nirut, would rule for only 16. The Blue King ruled from 22, 676, to the year 22,500 BC. Prince Nirut became king the following year (22,499 BC). King Nirut would prove to be more reckless, he would conquered SSARG, but in the process lose his own planet, Lihterb, and regain it at the cost of his death, in the year 22,483 BC. At which time, Yahoo the Strong would become King, his faithful bodyguard, that same year, and remain king for one hundred years, of Lihterb until 22,383. After the death of King Nirut, there was no longer an empire of the Galaxy, by way of war. Rue, was of course still the overseer.

Part Five

La Forte of the Cave Dwellers

During this time, this same period on planet Toso, along the river the Le Chef, of the dwellers of the largest tribe, was Zulu, and he wife Allez, and they had two children, Vazy (the elder by two years, female) and Polo (the younger, boy).
They created a wood and stone fortress of sorts, not much better than a beaver could do, but it was a large shelter along the banks, it could hold all 400-Tosollions, if need be, if in case there was raid from another tribe, or horde. The horde being the larger group for the tribes was basically family units; the year was 22,776 BC. King Vii was now ruler some twenty miles East, in his large Kingdom that was fifteen miles wide, and long, and had 24-arches for the massive people to walk through day after day, hour after hour, and at the far end, to the left, was the Great Tour of Toso, some fifteen hundred feet high. His special guards the Plantons guarded him night and day, in fear of Marduk, or perhaps one of the chefs of the Cave dwellers, there ware ten tribes, family groups of dwellers, and one horde. The tribes consisted of perhaps fifty to 200-family members. Perhaps a total population of 2500-Cavedwellers in the East part of Toso, the rest was unknown. The Kingdom of Vii was perhaps 50,000-inhabidents.
The Tor-rat

What most folks felt dangerous on the planet was the Tor-rat, it could stand and walk on two legs, it was created by Marduk, a cross-bred creature. It was of his nature, and a beast of a rat it was, a crossbreed of himself and whatever. It stood for to five feet high at full growth, and its weight was between 90 and 120 pounds: brown darkish fur up and down its back, and parts of it legs and arms, and forehead.
It mostly nested around the riverbanks, and in the large sewage tunnels under Sitnalta (the Great Kingdom of Toso). It had smaller teeth than a large cat, but when it bit it was like a bulldog, it ripped and tore at its victim.

Part Six

IAS

2007-07-07T12:53:00.000-07:00

“The Blood-Titans” From the Rhineland (The Green Knight and the Gladiators)

A Time of the Roman Republic

(200 BC to, 120 AD)

Preface and Background: When I think of Rome, I think of the whole world in those far off days, the Roman Republic, Trojan’s Column, built in 114 AD. The Great Coliseum (75-79AD, built), which holds 100,000 spectators. And Adrian’s Tomb, Nero, and Cicero, and the wars with Carthage; Sylla (88 BC) and the Caesar’s, Pompeii, and the Roman Forum; Tiberius, cruel and tyrannical (223 AD); Augustus Caesar, Emperor for 44-years; the Arch of Titus, Hannibal and his horde and the Green Knight (200 BC to 120 AD).

How it was in Rhineland

(Narrator) It was perhaps the brutish country the Green Knight had fought in yet, with the blond haired savages, primitive warriors. There was hundreds of them, whole tribes of them, and one Roman legend that marched on foot into this wolfs cage, and both sides fought heavily, the Romans with long beards, against these prime naked males, and their women fought like tigresses’ whom would sink their teeth deep into the feet, or arms of the Roman warrior, wherever possible.

The Green Knight was actually taller than these blond haired titans; he had great shoulders, muscles, and long and swelling mighty arms. The tall blond titans, as they were called, boomed across the mysterious nights, prowling into the valley’s and raided the camp of the Romans when possible, whom were outnumbered the Romans five to one, then raced back into the forest of trees, singing and dancing war songs. The Green Knight had never known such warriors as these before.

Bronze swords, singing like thunder, and (archery), arrows hissing, men dropping to their death daily; it was a slaughter in fury on both sides, blood soaked the earth in those far off days, and the Green Knight would remember those days until his last hour of life.

▼

The Poetic Sage Continues

The Circus Maximus

Titus Sulla
(Governor of Eboracum)

49

Titus Sulla
And the Gladiators

Titus Sulla was only answerable to the
Emperor of Rome, and he craved his games
in the Circus Maximus—and commanded the
Green Knight, to fight as a Gladiator there;
he was the pride of Rome, the peak of a warrior
of them all—and justly proud. But to perform,
for the sport of it, was beneath him, so he felt,
yet he would fight this one answerable day! He
felt like a trapped wolf, trapped in a cage.

The Trapped Wolf

50

The Green Knight came hauntingly out in his aspect—;
(bright military garb), his appearing skin texture was striking,
he wore complete green, even a green breast plate
with a long sword, and a short stabbing dagger at
his belt. Oh his head, a silver green helmet, with a
green shield and spear in each hand. The several
impassive solders in back of him, blond titans,
ghostly scared (the Mediterranean sun was basting
over the Circus Maximus): horror was stained on their
faces; next, he leaped at all seven, black fire came from
his sword, burning through flesh, like heated butter.
Cynically Sulla bowed to the Greet Gladiator.

The Might of the Green Knight

51

His lips writhed looking at his foe, his hands like
iron spikes, his raw fingers crunched human bones,
punished many a man with them, all victims—
his fists fell like hammers driving a man deeper
and deeper into submission, broken lips and
torn gums, lost teeth, the Green Knight fought
like a beast: his temples with swollen veins, anger
coming out of every pour, muscles knotted.

(Narrator) The Green Knight now rested a moment under the Palestine Moon, two strangers seemingly lost from their camps, both Knights; a bonfire going, as if to welcome whomever: the Green Knight was hoping for a battle, he
still had not gotten over Florencia of Camelot, thus perhaps
displacing his anger for the loss, whom he still
blamed on Gawain now long dead.

The Green Knight:
‘Aye, more—! Young pine, young wine, more ‘T is strange!
I’ve had no love affair since Florencia! Perchance, I’ve seen
too much infidelity, hearts fall in heathendom.
Too, too much, way too much, for a life time!

Florencia being the exception, a woman’s tongue is
more dangerous than a python; and these women that
follow the camps, exchange their bodies for love…,

it’s all that can be for a wandering sword! No more!
So you boast to be a Knight, with a childless youth!’
(The Green Knight stops, shilly-shally, looks at the youth.)

“Soldas,” says the youth, and he sang a song:

Song of the Boy Knight ♫
‘ Sing…a song as the old moon wanes
To win, to win, the first born kiss
A kiss, a kiss, from a young princess
Find thee in a hidden place!
But who am I to tell thee…in the
Desert sands of Palestine!’

No: 1896

The Boy Knight:
‘You torment in the blood you pour—perhaps peacefulness
consumes you more, I have forgotten the darkness
of night, all loneliness parishes with love, for a wife…

sets above my soul, and soon I will be back with her…
in Rhineland—my home (where Saxtons still roam)!’

The Green Knight:
‘Yes, oh yes young prince, or piper, silence is monarch
in my heart, it holds the dead and me…too many aisles
in my mind to trod, I am dead, but I am not mute.

Yes, prince or pauper, or knight—whom ever you be,
mortals question of my name. Thou know’st not,
but here side by side you and me, a moment fads…

that will never be again, for evil is of its own—!’

Morning of the Next Day

And for what, and whither, in the morn, the boy knight
was gone, and the Green Knight looked about—the fire
heap was cold, the sphere was showing the sun.

.

Notes: ‘The Boy Knight,’ was written on 7-3-2007, revised and edited on 7-7-2007, and then put into the manuscript, ‘Sir Gawain, and the Ghost of the Green Knight.’

The Complete Tales of:"The Soldiers of Nirut" (Part of the Cadaverous Planets)

2007-06-28T15:43:00.000-07:00

Discover Ancient, Mystic Literature through the Fiction of D.L. Siluk´s new Cadaverous Tale: “The Soldiers of Nirut,” Parts One through Four

Part of the Cadaverous Planets

Part One of Six Parts
“The Soldiers of Nirut”

A Ancient Tale of Gallantry

Introduction

The Wrath of Nirut

(Note: the first part of this drama is done in Poetic Prose, the second part, is prose alone)

Nirut is a word that means, a poem about a king-warrior, and in this small but profound epic poem done in a Greek style, is best summed up in its first lines, ‘…the wrath… (of) Nirut’ The incident that provided, or provoked Nirut´s wrath took place in the Black Galaxy, on the moon (Planetoid) Retina, one of the two moons that orbit the planet SSARG, not his home planet of Lihterb, during a conquest of the planet SSSARG. The epic poem does slowly work into narrative scenes that of his anger, and the war, being recalled in stages. The Great War of SSARG, at the Quiet Mound (a fortress) near the grasslands of the planet, all will end up being killed, but General Terb, of the Desert Warriors, and most all of King Nirut´s warriors, but King Nirut does win the war, or the battle, yet he loses, for he has to leave the planet, his safety is on the moon nearby, Retina, a guest of the King there. He will have to return to his home planet to regroup, and get more soldiers, for he wishes to continue his quest within the Galaxy, this is really his first loss, yet a win. Nirut in this part of the his saga, does not accept the ransom gift of his brother now captive in the dungeons within the fortress called “The Quiet Mound”, perhaps it is a matter of pride vs., he has never been defeated, he is in a way like Napoleon, he will, and has let his whole Army parish because of his stubbornness, which he refers to as power, yet power is simply a way in trying to be a little god, in a big universe. Nonetheless, he frees his brother, and Terb, the general, hides on a space craft with both Niruh and his comrade, Rognat, and they land on the moon Retina, there he recaptures Niruh, and this is where the anger comes into play, the king accidentally kills his brother, which is really Terb’s fault, thus, he refuses to give up on the revenge of his brother’s death, Niruh, his pursuit of Terb leads him into a five year struggle across the planetoid, until he finds him, kills him, and then leaves the planetoid for home, there he find a way to get his kingdom back. That is another story in itself.

The Wrath of Nirut

(King and Solider of Planet Lihterb)

Wrath—Demigods, sing the wrath of Niruh´s brother Nirut,
murderous, doomed, that cost the Lihterbeans countless losses,
heaving down to the House of Doom so many strapping souls,
brave fighters’ soldiers, they made their bodies rawhide,
and died like a plague on fire,
and the will of the gods were moved toward his end.
Start, think, when the two first broke and clashed,
Nirut King of men and lance huntsman Niruh.

What demon drove you to fight with such a will?
Agaliarept the henchman of Hell and Beelzebub. Terb, angry
at the king, he swept a fatal blow with his army—soldiers dying
and all because General Terb rebuffed the king.
Alas, the General approached the Lihterb’s fast space craft
hid himself inside, and flew back to Retina, bringing back a set free
and holding high in hand, brother to Nirut,
placing a crowned-wreath upon his head, the deadly lancer.
He had begged the whole Lihterbean Army but clearly
the two captive commanders, Niruh and Rognat saying:
“Niruh, tell your brother the king, we are geared for war!
May the demonic hold those chains of hell around you?
Nirut´s Army be ransack, then safe passage home for us;
just set my Army free, my dear King…here,
admit these prayers, this ransom. We will honor the demon
gods who strike these Lihterbeans away—Azaz’el, Semyas!”

And all ranks of the Lihterbeans cried out their consent:
“Respect the General; accept the ransom gift, Niruh!”
But it brought no delight to the heart of Nirut.
The king dismissed the General’s gift with a brutal order
ringing in the hearts of his soldiers: “Never bow, old General,
I will destroy the fortress you feel is your safe haven!”
Not pacing nor pondering back and forth, he went forth.
With skill, wrath, and good soldiers, nothing could save them now.
“My brother—I will not give up my brother. Long before peace,
old age will overtake the general on his world, on SSARG, and
far from my eyes I will shall cast his people, slaughter them
back and forth to their end, lift my brother from his dungeons!

Now go,
do my wrath—and set my beloved brother free.”

The Old commanding officer was terrified. Obeying the order,
turning, straggling away in stillness down the corridor,
of his host king’s palace, on Retina, where the roaring
commanding battle orders would come from.
And wondering off to a safe corner, over and over
the old Commander prayed to the Great Warrior King Phrygian
of Atlantis, “Hear me, Phrygian! God of the golden city
who ruled the world from Lemuria to Greece—
lord of the islands of the Atlantic, and Poseidonia!
If ever I could build a shrine to please your eyes,
or make sacrifice with fat rams or goats,
on your sacred pyre, now, now bring to me a means.
Pay the Desert Warriors on the Quiet Mound back
Set freed the king’s brother Niruh free!”

His prayer went down and Phrygian King of Atlantis heard him.
Up he strode form Mount Hades’ summit, as if in a night raid—
with his golden lance, in his grip and across his shoulder.
The golden stick at its end, clanged as he walked with wrath,
the king himself on a stride down the corridor at night.
When the old Commander saw him, he dropped to a knee,
and a petrifying spar rang out form the great golden spear.
Next he put his hand on the old mans shoulder, “stand!”
Then, placing his piercing lance at the Commander himself,
he cut him near the bone of his neck and chest—
“You will owe me; I will give you an end in sight!”

One day the spears and arrows swept through the air.
On the second day the Commander called all his soldiers to gather—
The moment seized him, sent by Phrygian, for he grieved to see
All the Lihterbion soldier fighters drop and die.
Once they had gathered, he had them lift up a great net
(12000-meters wide and long, of some miraculous iron and nickel)
Crowding around this mysterious net, with spacecraft, swift
they rose above the fortress of General Terb, of SSARG
and dropped the net over the stronghold, and no man rose above it:
“Phrygian of Hell’s Atlantis, now we have beaten them, to fright,
this long campaign is won. So home I hope we go…
if indeed, we can escape our death—beforehand.
But wait: let us question the king,
a warrior, even a man of vision and quest—
let no man blame us for this victory, for none
can lift the net, nor feed themselves, and thus set-free
the captives, and so it was, Niruh and Rognat won their freedom.

So we proposed
to go home to the king, and down we sat as Nirut rose among us,
and gave us our will, but we did not know, nor have second sight,
all things that were to come, hence, Niruh was now missing!”

No: 1881 6-25-26-2007

Part Two of Six parts

“The Soldiers of Nirut”
Part of the Cadaverous Planets

Nirut´s Torment and Ode to Niruh

Haiku for Niruh
“You can t stop it—“
(Niruh once said to his brother long ago)
“It is a matter of time:
Fate is at the end…!”

No: 1880 6-17-2007

Nirut´s Torment

Nirut sat back half distraught from what he had done, unintentionally done, he had killed is brother Niruh —now burdened to the point he went into a depression. At this moment he sat back against a great stone outside the high walls of the castle of the King of Retina, the walls were eighty feet high, seven feet thick. Rognat, his close friend, stood high up looking down from hallway window, looking through a window to where he was in the meadows a short ways from the palace, he could see Nirut, it looked like he wanted to take his own life, but fate would not have it, and as his Niruh, his brother once said to him, “…do not look back, for there is where torment of parting is brother…!” As if he knew someday, something like this could happen.

What had taken place was this:

When Niruh and Rognat were held captive at the Quiet Mound by Murdock and Terb (whom made their escape to Planet Lihterb, and at which time, both Niruh and Rognat were set free shortly after, General Terb, escaped by hiding on Niruh´s spacecraft, and hitching a ride to Retina, whereupon, he found Niruh, drugged him, and brought him down to the river below the Castle-fortress. There he bound him with thick roots of a nearby trees, bound him to a huge rock. With the drugs he became senseless, and Terb was hoping to watch him die slowly, for three days he lay on that rock as Nirut, Rognat and Arallets looked for him.
Then in the middle of the forth night, Nirut found his brother (Rognat and Arallets were a little ways off in the woods, as was Terb, hunting for food to eat, and display to Niruh, as he had intentions to ate it, and psychological torment him in the process). Thus, Nirut finding him, looking upon him, freed him from the rooted-ropes that bound him to the rock, whereupon, once free, he came up wild, yet still in a haze from the drugs, and lack of food (Terb was too far off in the woods to hear a thing). He went wild, and attacked Nirut with half his senses back, and struck out blindly like a viper, recklessly gripping Nirut by the head and neck, and with a thrust and twist back and forth, trying to snap his neck, in the process between the twists, thinking it was Terb he leaped forward, leaped right onto his own spear, the very one his brother had brought with him to fight Terb with, once he found him, to thrust it through his heart for his evil and cruelness to his brother, for the war on SSARG was over, and this was really vengeance for no reason other than please of a kill to insult the young King of Lihterb.
Now Terb hearing the echoes of Niruh´s dying voice from the wind shifting it down hill towards him, he ran the opposite way, looking about, to see if anyone was following.

And there he stood lost in a haze of thoughts, and now confirming with his eyes and senses, that he had killed his brother. When Arallets and Rognat appeared they were horrified.

The Funeral and the Hunt

Terb from the Lost Tribe of Toso

It was the third day of Niruh´s death—he was now laid in the ground on Retina’s soil, Nirut still in a haze, still depressed, looking at his brother, and his memories of childhood with him on his home planet Lihterb, “I will not rest until I find and decapitate Terb,” he said, with dread on his face, as his body was lowered into the King’s soil—the King of Retina looking on, not sure how to take this, and several of his guards watched on with him, while Rognat, and Nirut, bowed their heads in dismay, pulling up the ropes that lowered the coffin into the ground.

Ode to Niruh

I have been renewed—
By the love and memory of Niruh
(The Great Spear of the Universe—)
Here, along the Kings River
Heedless of peril—I remain;
Heavy and strong, was he.
Pleasure and joy he gave—
“Do not look back,” he once said,
“…for there is where the torment
of parting is…!
Go forward brother,
Like a burning spear.”

No: 1879, 6-17-2007, Part of the Manuscript:
“The Soldiers of Nirut,” also part of the “Cadaverous Planets.”

“Terb´s Demise”

Terb of the Valley of Arrows (whose ancestors had migrated from planet Toso, to Planet SSARG (better known as the Planet of Grass, in the Black Galaxy), had been hiding in the old folks Village in the Safe Zone of the moon Retina (planetoid) one of two moons orbiting SSARG, and upon his discovery by several of the inhabitants who confronted him with sticks and stones and pitchforks and so on, he quickly fled before they could bind him, and give him over to Nirut (whom was originally from the planet Lihterb on a conquest of the Black Galaxy).
Nirut was notified on this by Surendic from the Old Folks Village, which helped her in her tracking of Terb, whom now went towards the river, the King’s River, that separated the two Kingdoms (the Western from the Eastern), and climbed from the river up and onto Long Bridge that connected both empires by land.
As for the old folks, they had a feast, feeling proud on their discover and assistance in the matter of finding the outlaw for Nirut, or at least notifying him he had been there, and now was headed in the direction of the Long Bridge. Perhaps the feast was a result of them feeling needed, which gave them pride that was once lost back.
Consequently now that he had found the bridge, climbed its tall torso to its top, leaping over onto its solid woodened platform, he went to where the bridge was in the center of the river, connecting the West to the East, Terb stood in-between the two, one leg on each side as if he was going to run either way, he stood on the bridge looking over, looking onto the river, watching for Nirut, There was no place to run to, if there was he would have, and so he wept, not for the killing or being responsible for killing, or having Nirut kill his bosom comrade, for he was not sorry for that, but sorry he had no place to hide, sorry he was going to be captured by his slayer in a short time by Nirut.
Hence, Nirut had hewed his way towards the bridge, and now they both stood alone in a moment of silence, one facing the other, which allowed an evil spirit to speak out of Terb´s mouth; it was Buer of Earth’s Hell.
“Hail, King of Lihterb, slayer of many on planet SSARG, Warrior of Moiromma, and once sovereign ruler in the Black Galaxy, hail to you and Earth’s Hell, for you have even controlled the demons, Hail to you and your followers.” (He had intentions to harm Nirut, but he, the demon inside Terb wanted Nirut to know the monument victory he was seeking and would receive when he killed him.)
Nirut leaped on Terb, on his muddy flesh, fire in his eyes, Buer the demon, opened up the mouth of Terb, and leaped out, without fear of Nirut (which was his mistake), for he tried to grab him, as he did herself grab the demon; having to let go of Terb to fight the demon, now fighting two beings, swiftly and quickly, Gwyllion (daughter of the Tiamat, demonic being) froze the evil spirit into a trance, thus numbing his fighting skills having to release Nirut, and at the same time, the Pig-snake demon warped himself around Buer as if in a cocoon (They did not do this out of pure friendship ((no demon would)), but the assurance they would be reward later, in that they’d be welcomed on any planet in the Black Galaxy, Nirut conquered, in later days to be, thus he was an investment to them).
Anyhow, the battle was not over, not yet, Nirut did not get his full. He raised Niruh´s spear, Xerrhang, and as if Terb was stone, Nirut drove the spear through his chest, heart and out through his back and split his spine in to two pieces, then he knelt over his dying body as to insure he would not survive the attack, unmoving he was, in the purple dark sky overhead. And then he stood up, said, “It is finished.”

Part Three of Four Parts
6-26-2007

The Soldiers of Nirut

The Battle Cry of the Devil-bats

From the Journal of Yahoo the Strong

“He drove his soldiers unmercifully, Nirut, King of Lihterb (but they didn’t seem to mind), all over the planet of SSARG (in the Black Galaxy), until they came to the Quiet Mound. His bodyguard, Yahoo, saved him once during the incurring battles throughout these trying days, and months. It was the giant broken-winged devil Bats (that looked more like flying rats). They had swept overhead of the King, and tried to grab him, flying low, trying to kill him, as if the war of the planet would stop once he was dead, and perhaps they were right, it would have. But Yahoo the Strong grabbed the food of one, and another, and swung them at the twenty or so coming in on him, batting them like a ball, knocking them out, and then he tied their feat one of the two feet, backwards (like a camel) and thus, they could not fly without a run, and walked about the camp, falling and getting back up, like drunken men.
“In the Valley of Arrows, we had conquered what was left of the armies, only a village or two were left, and they only held women and children, unless the younger boys were hiding. And so we took the most direct rout toward the Grasslands.
“We had fought the Great Bears of the high cliffs and mesas, in the north, the cavemen of the western cliffs, even the mantic ores of the east, and in the desert we had fought the Lost Tribe of Planet Toso (General Terb had made his way out of the desert, when he heard we were near, and was held up at the fortress called ‘The Quiet Mound.’
“In addition, we even conquered the ghost leader’s army, the so called ‘Jason the Wizard, and taken his wife into custody, she was a beauty to behold. We heard he had escaped from a phantom environment and had possessed the dead body of an officer called Darab, a great warrior within his command, that evidently came out of the stock of the Lost Tribe of Tose, as he had been, hundreds of years earlier.
“Some of the battles that we perused with Jason (prior to the battle by the rim of the forest of rats), he used his magic, for it seemed he darkened the skies, so his men could sneak up on us, or so it seemed, but at the end, he was no more than a piece of smoke hiding inside a decaying body, giving orders to a half witted caveman army.
“It was the second month that Nirut and his soldiers, a dark moving mass, marched through the plains; Nirut ordered his devil-bats, now under his command, to find Jason’s Army of 2000, whom were by the rim of the forest of the rats. As they tried to enter the forest to hide from our nearing army, the rats chased them out.”

The Rim of the Forest

Journal

“Knowing the whereabouts of Jason’s Army, the king marched towards the upper rim of the forest, hoping to engage in battle once in site of his lopsided army. Commander Niruh, and the 3rd in command, Rognat was approaching the forest, it was the 9th week in the desert, and it was refreshing to get out of the heat, then we spotted Jason’s army. Nirut had returned to Toso that very day, and I, Yahoo the Strong was told to be the scribe for a while longer, then return before the battle at the Mound to serve him in the palace of the moon, Retina, as his body guard, expecting the battle to only last a day.

The Battle Cry of the Devil-bats

Journal

So intense was the interest of both armies, the rats even stopped their engrossment of attack on Jason’s army, which were a collection of nomads, cave men, and desert tribes for the most part.
King Nirut´s dagger was firm in his sheath, he really did not want a battle, he wanted to win by intimidation, and perhaps cause a revolt within the ranks of the foes army. Nonetheless, the battle cry came out of the mouths of the devil-bats, as they circled high and low, back and forth, over the encampment of the foe: psychological warfare, so the king said, build the fear in them early, and when the fight starts, half will run off—desert.
Nirut— furtively gnawing at t his enemy while in battle, grabbed Jason, almost losing his grip, grabbed them around the neck, next he pulled out his dagger, gleaming after he cut open his cut, Jason struggling to get away, ready to fight with the rest of his strength, he leaped at the king, dagger in hand, Yahoo was present, swung the king to his back, lest he be killed from the force of his weight plunging on top of him, and the dagger opening up his stomach or chest areas. And with the long thick arms of Yahoo, he broke the spine of Jason, clutched him by the arm, and cast him into the air, and when he fell, it was instant death.

The ´Battle Voices

Journal

A clamor of voices sank into my ears, and I heard the king call my name “Yahoo…!”
And the king’s soldiers trampled over the horde of bodies, a few dying were bellowing, but the battle had been won. Now somber the king walked about the battle field, he wanted me by his side, and so I was. Soldiers were looking for Niruh and Rognat, they were being brought up through the corridors to the courtyard, in hopes the king would spare their lives.
Nearby the mighty rats (one hundred pound rats), peeking from the rat forest roared in a climatic frenzy, which warned me, they could be trouble if provoked, and we were now a very weak army. I and the king made a smiling gesture of friendship with them. The next day, we marched onto the Grasslands, and the Quiet Mound (the king would return to Retina shortly).

Part Four of Four Parts
6-26-2007

The Soldiers of Nirut
The Inner Fortress of the Quiet Mound

From the Journal of General Terb

“No one really knows what went on in the inside of the Fortress at ‘Quiet Mound,’ especially during the last days of the Great Battle of the Mound, in particular with Niruh, the brother of the King Nirut of Lihterb, and his companion Rognat—but of course I do, for I was the Commanding General there. I wrote this journal entry, for I fear history will overlook this battle, one of many in the scheme of all things. So I leave it in the vaults of the dungeon, for posterity’s sake, written on strong and lasting snake skin.
“We had captured Niruh and Rognat threw them in a cell deep in the dungeons of the Quiet Mound, and what I really wanted to do was cut their throats, but Lived said, ‘No! We may need them for a ransom.’ And that sounded logical, and I added: ‘I’ll take the chance’, so I said, and did.
“Then shortly thereafter, before the sun went down, we saw the great mass of Nirut´s soldiers surrounding the compound: swords, spears, bows and arrows, ropes to climb the walls, daggers in their hands, all ready for battle.
“We all rested, uneasily that evening and throughout the night, until first light, when they tried to bust down the front gate with a large tree they had cut in the Rat Forest, nearby, made it into a battling ram of sorts, and tried to rush and bust through the two foot thick wooden door of the fortress, to no avail.
“I stood on top of the tall, thick wall of the enclosure, and commanded my men to continue to shoot arrows—non stop—at the enemy below, and hideously I thought at the time, what fun it is to kill the enemy, one after another, it gets to you, you know, desensitizes you, and the more you get to watch and kill, the more you want, the less the previous kill matters, and so it often has to be more gruesome, and you watch the arrows pierce their skin, eyes, skull, watch the blood ooze out. It is how it is, not necessarily how it should be.
“Then the General, the old one that seemed always to be by Nirut´s side, he came up with an idea, where he got it I don’t know, perhaps from hell itself. Anyhow, I didn’t know of the Iron Net, not at that time, but I would shortly.
“During the Battle I glanced at the sun, it was low and hot, and the first few battles got to both armies, and then we started to fight in the cool evenings, just before twilight; them and us, we all seemed to have had the same idea—fight when it’s cool.
“In a way it was all senseless, all this bloodshed, and when we all agreed to let our prisoners go, a form of goodwill to Nirut, for inside the fortress we were tired of fighting and most wanted to go back home to the Valley of the Arrows in the Desert, most had children and wives, and we knew Nirut was like a wild dog that once he got a hold on something, he’d not let go he’d take every once of blood of every soldier he had to win, break the devil in two, if he could, we were hoping he would have not come to this conclusion yet.
“Anyhow, we agreed and so did they to this ceasefire, and I suppose it stopped the fighting for a day, or a few hours longer, not much more, and then the King of Lihterb had second thoughts, and so did his general. (We did have a feast that night in the courtyard even brought some lamb meat down to our captives.) In the meantime, King Nirut took us as a continued threat bitterly, screaming vainly for revenge outside our fortress walls—and then the net came, the iron net, right over the fortress walls, it was dropped by two spacecraft, it locked itself tightly around us, like a snake would to its prey; we had never seen anything like it before, it scared us just to experience the sight of those iron knitted chains interwoven above our heads, it was as if we were cursed.
“What could I do—I yelled passionately, ‘We’ll fight on…’ and I remember seeing the King smile, I think he wanted that, and we did fight on, what else could we do, and he killed all our men, life flies. Only I and a few others escaped, the others escaped through the Forest of Rats, which Nirut tried to avoid. I escaped on Rognat’s spacecraft a ways away in the Grasslands of the giant snakes. And so to the reader, this is my recollections of the event that took place.” Terb

Part Five of Six Parts
6-27-2007

“The Soldiers of Nirut”

The Death of a King
In Three Parts

The Blue King

Advance: Grleg once the woman, lover and wife of Jason the Wise (taken against her will from her father, king of the Stone-men of the high cliffs and caves in the western part of SSARG), became the wife of King Nirut. Jason, had escaped from the ‘The Shadow Lands,’ on Planet SSARG, and his doom, to become the leader, and king of the deserts and plains, as well as the Valley of Arrows, within that vicinity, of the same planet, now dead. She was now Queen of Lihterb, or what was under the king domain, he was at this time circling the planet and winning back all his lands King Gilga had taken control of when he was gone for six years from his Archkingdom.
He had also taken Sun, the younger sister of Grleg, and gave her to Scro, the Governor General of Lihterb, whom was faithful to the king while he was gone.
The Blue King of Lihterb was of course Nirut´s father, as Nirut had followed in his foot steps, and now often referred to as “The Little Blue King.” (Or the: Lesser.)

Journal of a King

“I was never much of a talker, as I fought a hostile galaxy (The Black Galaxy). Often times I had to refer back to my father’s teachings, the so called Great, Blue King, so he was often referred as. He loved what he called his: traditional warfare, or war tactics. Be that as it may, they worked for him, and as he often said, ‘If it is working for you, there is a reason, life is a balance, there is a rhythm to it, in it, sometimes all it takes is to outwait the others.”
I suppose I inherited his blind rage from my father, or so I’ve been told. In the plainest speech I was told I would die young, mangled with glory, like so many heroes that will be in the future, and that have been in the past.”

Death in Near

The Kings Journal

“I make no appeal for a longer life, for I would not care to be a devil-winged bat, at another’s whim. Nor would I care to be like a gaunt ghost returning to hear my voice sour across the twilight of a campfire and scare men, women and children. No I do not believe in one-hundred life times there can be a lasting peace, so I chose war over peace to be my bed partner. It is you know the more popular tumult to be in.
‘Draw your weapon,’ I have often said—and at my command twenty-thousand swords and spears, raised upward, flaming in the gleaming sun. Then I’d hear, ‘Lead us oh king…!’ my soldiers would cry.”

Death is near

From the King’s Journal

“I went forward with one-hundred men to the Blue River, the march was hard, cautious we were, a short time after sundown as the moon was setting, we were to cross the river, someone carried the news of our coming to the commanding general of the armies of the Sumernites—they thought we all were on the flatboats (but there was really two contingent groups).
The king of the south had taken the control of the planet from me, when I was gone for six years; King Gilga. His son Ga, Slim Blade for short, was present at the campsite. Once across the river, Yahoo the Strong, my bodyguard stood by my side as usual, I told him, the old General knew my father’s tactics, I wanted his advise, and so Yahoo went and found him, he said, ‘Lie in wait,’ I pondered on that, then he added, ‘…among the great stones and trees, all of us, lie in wait and the enemy will not be the wiser, and we can strike, we have the surprise on our side, strike I say in the early morning before sunrise.’ And so we were to do, as he suggested.
There was really little cover along the banks of the river, so this sounded more feasible, and thus, we extended ourselves inland, and hid in the woods, as the enemy was in front of us, unknowing our presence.
Up stream a company of men were coming down to join us (our plans were to attack them just before their arrival and they would come to our rescue): we had constructed some barrages, flatboats, several of them, and the rapids had turned all the boats upside down, and they crashed into large boulders waters. This information came back to us from one of the runners we sent up stream to find out exactly where our second contingent was, as he had spotted the enemy doing the same thing, and thus, they must had figured, the battle was won already, in the water, and would not have to do a nights fighting, and thus would sleep sound tonight.
Alas, most of the men would die drowning in the dark waters of the Blue River. We could not turn back now; we would have to use the element of surprise to win the battle, and the courage of our men.”

Attack and Death
(By Ga: Slim Blade)

From the Journal of Nirut, the King of Lihterb

Attack and Death

“And so about 2:00 AM, we made our attack in an arch form, with three rows of soldiers all swinging axes, spears, swords, swinging wide and wild, cutting down the enemy like chopping grass throughout the enemy’s camp: with dizzying speed we had killed two-hundred foe faster than a fish net can catch fish, thus, 400-or less of their fighting solders were left, and now they had seemed to have captured the spirit of war, and armed to the teeth, as they started pushing us repeatedly back towards the river—but we hung onto one another, breathless, we slashed them right and left back, in the neck, face, swirled them under our feet, stomping on them, then, we cut open their arm-pits so they could not swing their swords so easily, or cast their spears with all their might, or fix their bows.
—We did defeat them, by dawn we discovered our men from the rafts that had turned over in the rapids of the Blue River, were but twenty left out of perhaps 160-soldiers; and out of the 160-soldiers that were with me, 90-fighters were left, thus, we had about 110-soldiers, to zero of theirs.
The rest of the night we all sat around the campfire in a full circle, the roar of the water in the background seemed to calm us.
The clash of steel I will regret not to hear again. Ga (known as the Slim Blade) had struck me in my guts, I have now internal bleeding, I did although decapitate him, and now torrents of pain circled my body. But I have won the land back—killed Ga, and ordered my bodyguard, Yahoo, to kill the King of the South, King Gilga as soon as I am buried. It is over. Now, I feel silence, numbness over my body.” (The last words of King Nirut)

Epitaph (by Yahoo the Strong, left in his Journal)

“We had left, but 110-soldiers after the battle by Blue River, the King, King Nirut died that day, a few days ago, and all of us bowed as he took his last breath. I left afterwards, and killed Gilga, as ordered. A pit was dug for the dead soldiers of ours, and we fed Gilga’s men to the wild devil-bats, the ones we subdued on planet SSARG, and brought back to Lihterb. Next, we concealed the pit, and put the king on top as ordered, and brought his sword and dagger back to the palace.
As the sun rose, the soldiers left behind, had crossed the river after insuring the campsite was properly cleaned up. And to my surprise, when all the soldiers got back to the kingdom, they made me king, which was one of the last requests of our king.”

Part Six of Six Parts
6-28-2007

“The Soldiers of Nirut”

In the Cell of the Dungeon
In Three Parts

The Incarceration of Niruh

I

I rushed across the stone cell floor
tore my thigh on the bedside,
men packed in behind
panting, raving, blood-stained
(from the battle-ax of the guards).
Their fierce, faces found mine;
the bars on the door began to give:
reluctantly my brain—(with
suspicion) told me: “Step back,”
next—the guard hurled the door open
(had I been closer, I’d had been on
by back…!)
I yelled, “I am Niruh, the prince of
Lihterb, my brother Nirut,
the king….”
Suddenly my eyes were blinded—
(burning like fire)
by the thrust and force
deafened, by a roar and flash
of a sword of bright blue steel;
it passed so close it seared my hair…
(I hesitated) turrets of pain
in my mind, screamed, flooded
my cerebellum: sixty-men—in
the enormous room, all of us
held captive in the secret dungeons
of the Quiet Mound, like dogs in
a kennel.
There was blinded chaotic frenzy
all about, and many guards yelled
as they stumbled blindly about,
“We have lost the war, kill one by one;”
thus for many, luck had run out. I
jumped out of harms way, with Rognat
my companion (both fighters
in the Black Galaxy).
I leaped in front, when I heard “Niruh
and Rognat, you’ve been ransomed,
set free, come forth!”
We rushed to dissipate ourselves
from this putrid air, that had been
devouring us slowly.

Looking Back
II

Rognat had been directly behind me,
as I looked back I could see—
several inmates,
charred out of human recognition—
trying to get directly in my path,
seeking the outside air like me.
The cell screamed, ignited, sending
flames of hate, for our escape!
Up the stairway, into its heavy dark,
shadowy beams, a torch on the top,
I found the upper doors unfastened,
unbolted above, I heard a confusing murmur,
beside me, a head bobbing, a shape saying,
“Follow me!”

Then there was a score of others—
grunting, and there was my salvation,
‘Yahoo the Strong,’ Nirut´s bodyguard:
“Come,” he said, “your brother waits.”

Virgins of the Dungeon
III

Rognat’s Glimpse

I caught a glimpse of the struggling women,
a glimpse of them, in their cell, as I walked by,
they, the guards of the dungeons,
of the Quiet Mound,
were breathing hard.
I caught a glimpse of their shoulders, thighs,
battering them on the floor—half alive;
cowering on the floor, trying
to avoid chance blows.

Unable to be heard, they pulled them up,
under their arms, in din darkness.
I saw the gleam in their eyes,
white limbs huddled against the walls!
But the rapes never stopped; their eyes
accustomed to it all…: I heard a cry!
“Slim…!” and the figure was hurled across
the chamber, as the hungry lips of the guards
roared on. And that was just a glimpse.

▼

Notes on how the story “The Soldiers of Nirut,” material taken from the handwritten manuscript written 11-17 June, 2007 (more of an outline, the death of Nirut was not figured out in the outline, but rather in the afternoon 6-27-2007, although I had expectations to kill him off prior to this, perhaps right from the beginning), and reedited and revised, and sections rewritten between 6-24 to 6-27-2007, in manuscript form, and in sections, then rewritten again on the computer, and revised; some of the new material added was the poetry, and the Devil-Bates; some of the outline was redone and the old left out, and some characters left out that seemed to simply get in the way: written in Huancayo, Peru, under the sunny sky, with a cup of coffee in my hands, at my sister in-laws house, Mini. The version of “In the Cell of the Dungeon,” Part Six to the series of “The Soldiers of Nirut,” done in three sections, were structured in poetic form to create a more smooth, dependable, and emotional version of the story, done in the afternoon of 6-28-2007.

The Headsman of Moiromma

2007-06-06T22:36:00.000-07:00

The Headsman of
Moiromma

The secret is not that an alien race
has come to earth to visit us, it is in
that it dies on a sunless planet,
someplace in nowhere.

Nameless he was on earth but as he died, he reappeared on Moiromma—his home planet, at the end of the solar system, earth’s so called solar system. He knew dying was not death for him, rather a time for replacement. And he had died before, and always ended back up on Moiromma, although this was not the norm for everyone. Almost as if it was a punishment, an end to an end, that never ended. A butcher on earth had killed him, chopped his body up, and sold his meat portions and, oh yew, if you didn’t read about it in the newspapers, then it is just as good you didn’t, it was a mess.

Uhluhtc was back, back home on his frozen and sparsely red-rock planet. The real name for his planet was after a god that had won, or was given the planet to him from his brothers eons ago, called Rahsna; as the story goes, it lead into a fight, but that’s another story, the planet was what earthlings would call ‘Ice Death,’ but really it was Moiromma, after a king and a queen of the planet, when it was not Ice Death; it was as he remembered it, the sun barely reflected its rays, on this desolated island planet, and when it did all the inhabitants would come out of their abodes for its moment of grandeur, as the sun stood still. Yes, one would absorb its rays, hues, but only small light of warmth could you expect; the rest of the time the sky was a fearsome awe, a world that had a death shadow over it, a canopy of sorts (except for a few months out of the year when it was hidden behind Cibara [a planetoid]; its own phantom like pale terrain; wherewith, it nullified everything and everybody; a planet with little horizon.
Now was his chore to let the Pack know he arrived back: should the Pack even exist anymore. As he stood there, all seven to eight feet, four hundred pounds of him (or there about, he stared into the night, the cold awful night sky of his planet; the planet Pluto was a distance away, he was hoping to visit some day, that particular planet, it was more like a moon he thought. He could see it now, barely, but see it he could. It was on one hand, sheer refreshment and stimulation in seeing it, after forty years on earth’s egg-shaped planet; although he got to liking it, especially the changing of seasons; it was always to his dismay though he had to hide from its inhabitants.
Rigidity, he knew he couldn’t live on earth indefinitely, it was hideous trying to hide here and there and everywhere to avoid people, and then being in the gypsy circus: where people called him the pre-human the Neanderthal, the representation of a creature, a so-called creature from Mary Shelley’s book out recently called, “Frankenstein’, although in reality, he was much huger than such a creatures. That part of earth’s visit was disenchanting, it brought a gloom to his face when he recalled it, but he acquired much knowledge and experiences that would account for something he figured; all said and done, he needed to speculate in his future, which he look about for, his people, the people of the planet, the Pack. When he had left here, left them, there were ten thousand inhabitants.
That was it for the whole inhabited planet, not like earth with millions on it. Nonetheless, even though there was no birth on Moiromma (for the most part), people did showed up, or come back, from a death they had on another plant. And they sometimes left behind their offspring (mixed blood, making them a hybrid for their planet), and then as they grew up, sometimes they’d show up on the planet years down the road; and within time no matter how they looked they become like them, once on the planet Moiromma that is; should they have Moiromma blood to start with also; yes, I repeat myself, they’d end up looking similar to the Moirommalit’s; a slow process, day after day and year after year, once on the planet of Moiromma.
What he did remember, and now was becoming clear in his mind was: he left the planet, his planet some forty years in the past now—it was foggy for awhile—just how long it had been, and he was the headsman, the man in charge of the Pack; yes, yes it was becoming clear, even its brutal moments. Surely he thought they must have found a new headmaster since his departure, which would be the master warrior.

It was a windy day; forty years ago, when he went into combat with Nori Iron, a beast of a man. Taller and stronger then Uhluhtc, not more cleaver though, other than the odds being against him, he played with fate, a coldhearted game with Nori Iron that day and lost. From what he remembered, he had killed Nori Iron, with a sly blow to his heart, stopping it, and ripping it out, but during the process he was bit by Nori Iron’s sharp teeth into his jugular-vain in his neck, also killing him; hence, both fading into the morbid global-ice sheets of the planet.
Where Nori Iron went was beyond him. But normally they ended up back here somehow, somewhere, eventually. It was their way of life, fight to the death, and look for a death-kill. Sometimes upon their return they looked more ghostly than when they left, and sometimes more hideous looking than ever, as the earth people called them demons for their appearance, it was the price for resurrections, and body adjustments on other planets, it took it toll. It ripped at the character of the body, for its cell and neurological structure, biological chemistry, all had to adjust to its new surroundings, it was taxed you could say, that is why they did not commit suicide until absolutely necessary to get back to their home planet.
There was another side to why most of the planets inhabitants that were on other planets did not rush to get back home, it was a repugnant life on Moiromma, to say the least, and just knowing you’d end up back there time after time and have to fight the elements after being on earth in particular, was not a bright homecoming, as one can see at this point. No one hooting for you at the train station, for there wasn’t any trains or planes, just the Arctic like geography, and the only thing to keep ones mind separated from this awful planet was to furnish stories that broke ones imagination, thus swallowing one up so he did not have to face the reality of this arctic planet.
He could remember many stories of his clansmen coming back and sharing them, those wild life stories. He wished he could have done as much. But who would want to hear about a planet that used him as a freak show, Earth. That would be a classic. And to be a headsman at that, they’d all say: “Where you been, at some dance…” Life was different on Moiromma, no sex for the most part [platonic for the most part, for many had both sex parts], no one ever went to the toilet but excreted waist out of their porous that is why they had a scabby body, that also kept them warm; it was like sweat, syrup thick.

The Kingdom: and Jokaneen.

As Uhluhtc looked about walking mile after mile on his new found planet, a bit smaller than earth’s moon, he called about names he remembered, one in particular being, Jokaneen. She was more female than male, and was the last person he saw in his minds-eye before he died (a lovely woman indeed, strong and cleaver); she was cheering him on during the war battle with Nora Iron. And so he called and called and called her name until his voice could not call any more. He knew he’d not freeze to death, he never had before, his scab-like body kept that from happening, it protect him from the cold, the utter freezing to death cold. Although it could make a person uncomfortable, and in old age, it could kill you, should it get past 60 to 70 below? But the planet seemed to have a spider web of currents surrounding it, which drew on the blood of its inhabitants not allowing the cold to freeze the blood solidly, or the heart, or the lungs, thus allowing the flow of thick blood to continue, with often times the pain of the cold, should one be of a very old age. In essence, it wasn’t easy to die here, and you never knew where you might end up should you die. So no one really wanted to die, too many variables. It was as if a god some place was using them for his purposes on other planets, especially when they became too aggressive. Perhaps it was this god called Rahsna, or was this hell for them, as the earth people had explained to him, humans go to. Maybe each planet had their hell, and each solar system a hell planet. Possibly creatures like him went elsewhere, who knows, maybe this planet was his hell from another time. Everyplace has it hidden history, its secrets, and Rahsna was no different.
Strangely enough, as he was about to yell again, a voice came echoing back to him, a high pitched voice, it called his name: “Uhluhtc, Uhluhtc! Is that You!!?” Then all of a sudden she spotted him, and started running to him, and saying many things in her native youthful tongue, “Yaha to-mo ha, [welcome back]” and”Toaw wow a la [I’ve missed you].” And she surely was a sight for sour eyes, if not sore eyes.
Uhluhtc was insistent they find a place within the ice they could talk, a place they called: ‘Uwabam ma,” meaning, an ice cave that had volcanic waters within it keeping everything to a moderate temperature. And so she took him to her “Uwabam ma,” and explained that Nori Iron had not returned, and after he had left [like himself], everyone went into cells on their own, kind of in smaller packs, if you will. She had gone on her own, herself she explained: being more female than male it seemed safer, lest she be used for fun and played with like a toy to take away boredom, by the brutes and other great warriors of the planet, she herself was becoming quite the warrior; for many of her kind would seduce the weaker inhabitants, for pleasure, a pleasure they could sense more than feel, providing one could work the imagination properly. By and large, there were only a few like her, more female than male that is, they being the odd ones, and much in demand on this humdrum planet.
As the hours passed, the reuniting took a different beat, Uhluhtc explained to Jokaneen about his venture on earth; that, regrettable, he was used as a haughty, if not scary pagan vile creature from their inhuman past; she simply absorbed this as a fantastic story, one beyond any others that she was told, not sure if she should, or could digest it as truth.

Looking Twins

As unexpectantly as it was, it was believable nonetheless that the once kingdom he ruled was no more than a pack of dogs stretched across the wasteland of this arctic sphere in outer space; a world barrenness without roads or trees; a people who came and went like the swirls of dust, dust that circled the globe. With its gray nights and pale days; fluctuations that stirred with the winds; yester-eve was leafless, as was this evening, as the two, and only two, trees [on the planet] blackly bare, twigs and branches about, as precious as the moment of sun-light each day was. An alien race that visited earth, and other planets, no secret to them, the secret was to the other plants that they lived on an almost sunless planet, something they’d never understand, or would want to understand. And one had to die to get to it, what an adventure he told himself.

Within Jokaneen’s ice vault of dark-blue hoarfrost, lo, an idea came to mind, she wanted to search and see if any of her old friends were still nearby. Feeling safe or a little safer since Uhluhtc was by her side now. Before they ventured outside again, they ate some long ice rats, and ice worms, with long tentacles that looked like weeds—this provided fate for them, a food the planet had an abundance of, if you could catch them. The worms lived in the ice, and the rats above, on the surface. Although it was seldom they needed nourishment: that is, unneeded on a regular bases, in the sense if you didn’t get it, it wouldn’t kill you for a long time, just weaken you, it was needed for ongoing strength though: but death would not normally take place: save for the fact, the psychological triggers to hunger for that would remain, the cravings a body goes through. Their bodies were like long-lived camels in a way. On earth, Uhluhtc gained some one hundred and fifty pounds from the abundance of food.

An uncanny wind was now crying eerily as they both left the abode to search out other life, the cells of the populace they once knew; Jokaneen had said she believe the population was not much different than before possibly a few more, maybe thirteen-thousand at the most, for many had returned from far off places most recently.
As they walked and looked about, the skies were looking witch like, as their bodies started to get covered with a frost, yet silently they kept tracking over the desolate region; Jokaneen was familiar with most of the terrain, yet they found nobody.
Something accrued to Uhluhtc, noticing there were no life signs on the surface of the planet, none what so ever, “Possibly,” he explained to Jokaneen, “just possibly the inhabitants might have left the cells, and are individually dying within their own ice abodes, or trying to die and can’t.” She nodded her head in agreement, saying, “Anything is possible I suppose.”
It was over a hundred miles they had walked before they stopped to rest. Said Uhluhtc, with a bit of wisdom to share with Jokaneen, which was another story from earth:
“I had once met a man on earth, a man by the name of, A. C. Htims, who once talked to me in my own language, after putting me into a spell like atmosphere, as in hypnosis, when I had come out of it, A.C. Htims, had told me in our own language, that when he was a young boy (Uhluhtc quickly inserts: ‘…and he imprinted this in my brain so I’d remember when I’d return, this is why I’m telling you…), his grandfather told him about the Prison House of Gloom, that Moiromma was his home planet, but he was taken off this planet to someplace else, which was of course earth in a spaceship, never to returned; while others were left to survive on their own on the scorched, and dead planet. He said most of the inhabitants had died that was left behind some one hundred million had died, leaving about 10,000. Well, the old man, that is Mr. Htims, had mentioned this House of Gloom, where certain things were stored within the peaks of the mountains on Moiromma, in its underground tunnels (once sea-beds) where also things called ‘suns’, that were stored. That they were hidden their so this world of ours would not melt and during its evaporation stage, they felt the weight of the inhabitants would eventually create a possible crust distortion, which might cause the axis of the planet to crash into asteroids, or like planets. And so they hid the sun’s rays to deflect from the planet directly.”
She looked at him in disbelief, and even if she could believe him two people could not change the course of the planet to be anything other than a dead snow ball in space, like that of a comet 200,000-million miles away from a sun. So she smiled to appease him, and did nothing to change the flatness of her unemotional face.

But Uhluhtc was full of spark, energy, ideas, and was proud he had remembered all the details. Thinking: therefore, if they could find this hidden treasure, this Prison House of sorts, life could possibly resume back to normal, whatever normal was before. All this made good sense to Jokaneen—but it was just a story, like so many people told when they came back to the planet, another speculative story, no more than that, but a good one to her nevertheless. In all reality, to her what was normal was the moment, and in this moment she could not understand Uhluhtc’s mystery voyage at all. She looked at him puzzled, but kindly.
She asked in her native language, “Howkalia dela savoay,” meaning: can you destroy us. She was scared, frightened for the moment, thinking he may have come back with some supernatural powers.
Explained Uhluhtc in the simplest of terms:
“Life is not necessarily the same on other planets as it is on Moiromma, gravity is different, things are heavier or they can be lighter, days are not all the same length; but I understand this is just too much, way too much for you to tackle.”
She gave a sigh, although he did not answer her question, he gave a humble monologue instead; one she felt safe with, or so he thought. As they walked back to their abode, to rest and get some sleep, in which they only needed but a few hours, possibly an hour or two deadly sleep every few days, and then they’d be good for a promising few days more, Jokaneen was quite taken by what Uhluhtc’s character tried to point out, that when Uhluhtc went to sleep, she took a sword of deep dark condensed and sharp blue-ice, as hard as a saber-tooth rat’s jaw, possible six inches long, and stabbed it into his chest, and ate him sum total.

The Great Manticore of Cibara (The Cadaverous Planets))#35))

2007-06-02T22:48:00.000-07:00

The Cadaverous Planets
(Before the House of Moir; #35-eposode;
Part VI to Planet Cibara)) 6-1-2007))

The Great Mantic ore of Cibara

Malsi, High Priest of Cibara

Advance: it was known throughout the years, Malsi was cleaver, and when his father died, the demonic forces wanted him to take command of the realm, but he refused, yet what he did was, take the post of High Priest of Cibara, appeasing both the flesh of Cibara, and the demonic forces, yet there was a hunger inside of him unquenched, the Great Mantic ore of Cibara, rarely seen was an ally to Malsi (and he Mantic ore was the leader of a horde of these creatures),and he would prove to be as cleaver as Malsi.

Said the great Mantic ore, “Behind the minds of each demon, is a great darkness that remains, never goes away—and out of that, no good tales have come, the father of the demon is a being with ten wings, from earth, a dragon, and a man, Lucifer is His name. In a place called the Mountains of Hell, between darkness and gray is this place— Lucifer put his failures! This is the prison house for demon, where Satan Himself cares not to go, yet, I shall repeat, he throws his victims without souls there, the demon who fails Him. This evil demon called Noge, your father whom you hate, and want me to kill, which demons cannot be killed, but if he fails Lucifer, he will be brought to prison; if it is revenge you seek by asking me for my assistance in this matter, so be it, but you will owe me!”

If he could rid the planet of his father, he would feel much safer indeed, and so he gave the Mantic ore, his friend from the woods, his permission to carry out the mission, to rid Cibara of him, and agreed in the process to come to his aid should he need it in future time.
Malsi did not know how Belgorod the Mantocore was going to accomplish the task, and perhaps didn’t want to know, incase it did not work out, for he did not ask.

It would seem Noge knew something was up, happening—for when he talked to Malsi there was an unfamiliar hesitation to his composure, his voice, yet who knows the love of a father, even a demonic one, that is to say, little things can be overlooked, and perhaps in this case it was, and especially when one like Noge was put on high places, it is easy to fall low thinking it cannot happen to one like him, unknowingly, out of pride for showing mercy, many things can come about.

The Reckoning

No shadow was seen of the 2000-Manticores that crept up to the walls of the Great Enclosure that had been built by King Cibara, nor did the Mantic ore forget what the great Angelic Arch Angel Ura’el said once many years ago, “Should the walls come down of the Enclosure, I shall return.” And the Mantocore knew, if Ura’el returned, Noge would not be in the good graces of Lucifer, and be sentenced to the Mountains of Hell, the prison house.
Thus, in the middle of the night, the large cats, with humanlike faces dug deep into the sides of the walls of the enclosure and ran around the enclosure like wild beasts, all 2000-Manticores, 400-pounds each, 800,000- pounds of flesh stomping on the ground, and the ground trembled, and vibrated, and the walls came tumbling down, like in Jericho. And the instant the last stone fell, Ura’el appeared, and Noge, disappeared.

Note: See Introductory Chapters to “The Cadaverous Planets” (Parts I & II Planet Cibara)) Part VI, written 6-1-2007; Lima, Peru.

Notes (Characters):

Cibara: First King of Planet Cibara (lived 800-years)
Malsi: Son to Cibara (High Priest on Planet Cibara
Niets: wife to Cibara (whom slept with a demon and bore Malsi)
King Omlu: Father to Cibara (Nomadic leader of the pre-Cibara inhabitants living on pre Moiromma (in the Northlands)
Queen Omluo: wife to King Omlu, mother to Cibara
Ura’el: Angelic being sent as a messenger to King Omlu
Rabmid (Part of Ancient Moiromma, toward s the Great Sea of the West)
Noge: Lust Demon from Earth, living on Cibara
Queen Lihterb: Cibara’s wife
Belgorod: the Leader of the Manti cores

Water of the Giants (A Short story by D.L. Siluk)

2007-06-01T21:06:00.000-07:00

Water of the Giants
(A Story from the Andes)

Dr. Adelmo and Professor Jesus Vega, were two retired scientists in the Mantaro Valley of Peru, surrounded by the Andes, they lived perhaps fifty years ago. They had both heard a of legend in the mines of the Andes, that the little people known as the Amuc, had water that came from the Giants of Old, that carried scientific elements, if drank, that would change ones genetic structure, and cause them to grow like lizards, forever. They both were aging friends, and had taught at the University of Huancayo; but lived in San Jeronimo, a small village some several miles away.
But their retirements were soon to change. Mr. Adelmo and Professor Vega discovered this new essence by digging in his backyard so deep they both fell into what might have been a giant hole, that led into a pool within the crust of the earth, some fifty feet below the entrance of their new tunnel.
“You know Professor; this might be just what we’ve been looking for all these years!” Adelmo said to Jesus Vega, adding, “Perhaps if we can preserve this little pond of sorts, we can bottle all the water and sell it, but first we must see what it can do.” As they extracted their first bottle of water, they noticed a giant worm crawl out of the water, perhaps seven feet long, and as thick as Adelmo’s neck.
Now standing outside of the dig, the Professor said to Adelmo, holding the bottle of water “Gigantica!”
“Yes indeed,” commented the Professor, “…this could be the answer to many of the world’s problems, and surely ours, we shall call it Gigantica.
So they both agreed on the name of the substance, and sat back and made plans to extract the substance, and possibilities beyond that.
The wise Professor studied the elements within the water, as the Doctor, carefully watched the animals (sheep, llamas, and goats) inoculated with the substance, how they would grow. And they found what they had expected, if given the water on a daily bases, they grow rapidly if in the sun, Vitamin D, seemed to accelerate the process; whereas, in the dark or rainy season, things changed, the animals grew slowly, perhaps like the worm, possibly it was a hundred if not a thousand years old, they could not tell. But the llama after several weeks of sun, and water was eight hundred pounds. And the sheep and goats three times there size.
The Professor had an 800-square meter farm, and had to buy the land next door to corral the newly growing animals, making it 3000-square meters.
There was a young couple living on the other plot of land he had purchased, and thus, kept them to guard the land, and take an oath not to tell anyone of what they witnessed, lest they lose their jobs, which were not plentiful within this region of Peru.
“How big can they grow?” asked Adelmo to Jesus?
“It looks to me, they never stop, under favorable conditions, legend says they can grow up to 600-feet, as were the giants in the Old Testament.”

When Professor Vega returned to Lima, he told his secret to his old friend, and female companion, Dean Maria Fiba, of the University at Lima.
“Oh they are growing so fast, I told Doctor Adelmo I’d not disclose our discover to anyone, but I have to tell you, for I’ve given a glass of water to my nephew Tony, each day now, and he was but four feet eleven inches tall, three months ago, and now is five foot eight inches tall. I told him I wanted to stop the experiment, but he knows were the water is and refuses to stop taking it.”
“Oh, yes my old friend, should this news get out, I fear there will be trouble.”

2
Night

It was during the night of July 1, now five months after the discovery of the water, the animals got restless in the corral, and hungry, and the keepers could not control the several goats, of five hundred pounds, and the three llamas of now over 1000-pounds, and the twenty sheep, some 600-pounds. They all leaped and jumped and busted their way into the neighbors yard, and raided the garden, and took bits out of the legs of the neighbors, to the point the farmers ran to get their guns, and shot half the herd dead, staring with unbelievable eyes at the sizes of the creatures.
The news spread of these giant animals, all the way down to Lima, and to Dean Maria Fiba’s office, who of course notified Adelmo and Professor Jesus Vega, concerned about what steps they were going to take now.

The nephew was now six foot tall, and all of 200-pounds of solid muscle. He was walking around as if he was Samson in the Bible. Along with him, all of San Jerónimo was excited about this new water especially the teenagers all wanting to be tall and muscular yet many were torn you could say. On one hand they thought it a miracle and God sent, on the other, it seemed it was causing more problems then it was worth, and put it in the category of a gift from Satan himself.
The several animals that were left had run off into the hills nearby the village, and were causing havoc with the cars at night, running across the streets, and jumping on them, or causing them to skid off the roads—therefore more accidents were recorded in one night than had been in the whole year previous.
The Professor was starting to worry about Tony as well, because this was not his evil intentions to cause havoc in his life or anyone’s, only to become rich if possible, and perhaps do mankind a favor in the process of food supply.
The inhabitants’ of San Jerónimo, gathered all the weapons they could, guns, and machetes, rocks to throw at the beasts, and searched the village and streets, and mountain sides for the animals, some thought it was fun, adventurous, and one by one they captured and killed the beast, ate them under a bonfire. While the Doctor and Professor remained at their farm, guarding it, as if the animals would return, but they never did of course.

Said he, Professor to the Doctor, “Who are we to change the world to a point of subjecting our youth to dangers we know little about. I see in them what can be, in time, what we have here is something none of us are ready for, and can only harm us, we have the responsibility to destroy this substance that will only bring envy, and jealousy, and drive the spirits of our youth to destruction.”
After saying that, he broke the foundations of the cave, to where the dirt filled the pond, and the waters scattered all about, soaked deep into the earth, never to rise, or be replaced again.

Written Lima, Peru 6-1-2007

The Demonic Forces of Planet Cibara (Cadaverous Plantes)) #32,33, 34))

2007-05-31T19:01:00.000-07:00

Title:

The Cadaverous Planets
(Before the House of Moir; #32-eposode;
Part III to Planet Cibara)) 5-30-2007))

King Omlu
Of Ancient Moiromma

1
Pre Moiromma

Before the house of Moir existed on what is know known as Planet Moiromma, it was similar to life on earth, before the Great Flood (and then some), the Moirommalit’s then were similar to the Stone-aged men. These stone-aged men warred with the pre-Cibara dwarfs of the Northern lands of pre-Moiromma (Moiromma, was simply known at that time as the Rim Planet, being on the edge of two solar systems)) Earth’s and Moiromma’s). They often went to battle in the middle of the planet, in an area called the Southern Boarders (Reference is made to previous chapter-episodes for updates on King Moir; and for the planets here involved, see other ‘Cadaverous Planet stories).

The planet Cibara is just beyond the Asteroid Moon Ice Cap, which orbits the cold planet called Moiromma, just beyond Earth’s solar system—if one is to call Pluto, the last planet within our solar system, it is beyond that.

It was a time when the planet Cibara, was unpopulated for the most part, when pre-Moiromma was green and quite comfortable to live on. The scattered tribes in the North would eventually become Cibaralites, but of course that would take time and a process.
As I had said, it was a time of war, and King Omlu, had he not taken command of his realm when he did, genocide would have taken place with his people. The North was likened Earth’s arctic, but quite smaller.
It was said, in those far off days, a great storm came out of the north, and had scattered the tribes, forced them to go south, and the pre Moirommalit’s, the stone-people, who had been marching to conquer these Northern tribes, were stopped flat in their path, they could not advance; the storm lasting for weeks, would not allow the enemy to advance, and thus, at the Northern tribes under King Omlu, escaped to the land called Rabmid, (Rabmid, being, part of Ancient Moiromma, towards the Great Sea of the West). There they lived unnoticed for a period of time, and seemingly not able to return to their land, lest they cross over into the South, and the stone-warriors were there to greet them, the barbarians of pre-Moiromma.

2
King Omlu

It was about this time some a supernatural force, sent forth a being, a secret messenger by the name of Ura’el, not of flesh, whom had told the king, he blinded the eyes of the stone-people, and that their faith, through him, and unto his God-king, would save them, should they follow his instructions. This superhuman being, no person from pre-Moiromma had ever seen before.
Out of fear, the King received the stranger, and listened, “I come to your ad, to the ‘House of Omlu,’ and will save you and your people from the barbarians should you wish me to.” Said the angelic being, whom was instructed to deal with the king in a kindly fashion, and so did. Although the king listened, and looked serious with the supernatural being when he spoke, there was hesitation in his voice, his eyes, and his whole person.
Ura’el counseled the king for weeks on end, was treated as a special guest in the Kings’ House, and then upon the end of the eighth week Ura’el told him to make a decision “…hasty and willingly, for time is short!” for he knew the barbarians had found their whereabouts, and would attack soon.

3
The Great Lift

Said Ura’el, “There will be a new kingdom, and it will be called Cibara, and it will be on a planet nearby, it will be named after your son, and I assure you, the stone-people will not find this new kingdom, but only be able to see its cities.”
But the king hand changed his mind, he wanted his people to return to their old lands, and unto their old grief’s he led them, and into new wars, perhaps not believing in the words of the angelic being, or on the other hand, afraid to rebuild a kingdom on some far off a planet, and then have to let his son, that was not yet born, take command. Therefore, he led his 100,000-inhabidents into ruin.

4
Seventeen-years

And it was seventeen-years of battling, and it come to pass he had a son, and his wife did name the child Cibara, out of protest, yet she believed in the words of Ura’el, and to save peace within the now small kingdom, the king agreed, for now there was but 10,000 citizens left.
His son, now being 16-years old, was approached by Ura’el, and given the same message his father had received seventeen years prior. And with the wisdom of his mother (Queen Omluo), young Cibara accepted the offer, realizing it was just a matter of time before his people would be completely wiped out from existence. Thus, it was over night it took place, which 9,999-souls were lifted into orbit, in the blink of an eye, and found they were on what would be called, Planet Cibara (when they woke up from a dead sleep).
King Omlu was left to his own on pre-Moiromma.

Note: See Introductory Chapters to “The Cadaverous Planets” (Parts I & II Planet Cibara)

Part of “The Cadaverous Planets”
Building of the Great Enclosure of Cibara
(#33, Part IV, to the Planet Cibara Series)

Advance: Enslavement of the Demon, it was how the Great Enclosure got built, let no one tell you different, it was King Cibara’s cleverness, but evil got even, Noge impregnated his wife, and thus, his son become a hybrid, one third demonic, two thirds flesh. When the demon first appeared, King Cibara of Planet took a liking towards Noge, even felt sorry for him, and he was perhaps not as wise as he should have been, but cleaver he was. Noge was never stupid or smart, but on the edge, and perhaps not much different than any sexual manic, but he never told the King he had ulterior motives.

Actually, Ura’el was around in those days to keep an eye on things, and when the demonic forces started arriving, King Cibara looked the other way, it that somewhat dumbfounded him, asking, “King Cibara, why do you not come to me to shoo these misfits off your planet, you do realize I could, and with the Creator’s blessing.”
In generalities, the King said very little, “Let’s see if they can be useful on the planet, perhaps I can use them for the betterment of the place.” Ura’el knew better, you don’t bargain with a demon, for once you lose your edge, you are in his hands. But he left well enough alone, and just watched from time to time, when he would visit the planet.
During these first twenty-years on the Planet Cibara, the king threaten the demonic forces, which were not some one hundred in force, that if they did not build the Great Enclosure for him, he’d have Ura’el ostracize them from the planet. Thus, in fear of explosion, they build, brick by brick, some weighing 5000-pounds, a massive temple fortress. One that could withstand an earthquake, the cold of the planet, and the ferocious winds; it was a master piece, like a maze, thirty feet high, several feet thick, each wall, and there were several inner walls to the Enclosure. Out side the Enclosure, there were guard posts (or lookout posts).

It was just after the Enclosure was build, Ura’el returned, saw the last of the stones being put into place, and said to the King, “Tare down the Enclosure, it was built by God’s enemies, if you wish to keep my friendship.”
The King was praised by all his servants, or citizens for being so wise, and cleaver, he had now over 15,000-inhabidents. And now the demonic population had raised to150.
The king would not listen to Ura’el, and therefore, he dismissed himself, cordially, but a little disheartened. That is when things changed, that is when Noge got closer to the queen, Cibara’s wife, for he had married upon the completion of the Enclosure, at the ripe age of 41-years old.

Written 5-31-2007
Note: See Introductory Chapters to “The Cadaverous Planets” (Parts I & II Planet Cibara)

The Cadaverous Planets
(Before the House of Moir; #34-eposode;
Part V to Planet Cibara)) 5-31-2007))

The Demonic Counsel of Cibara
(And King Omlu’s new Kingdom)

Noge the Demon

King Omlu’s New Kingdom

Advance: it would seem it all started quite easy, too easy (if you have read the introductory episodes of The Cadaverous Planets, which gives reference to Cibara’s demonic migration). The demons appeared, it would seem out of no where, but of course that is not possible, they came from Planet Earth, and their was a lustful demon among them called Noge, although all were lustful in those days, it was just this one would change the status of the planet.

1
The Courtship

“I want all the demon on this planet to swear an oath to me!” demanded King Cibara, Noge the demon was of course was the first in line to do so, he never left the eyes of the queen when he gave it either, he had his intentions.
As for the rest of the demonic forces on planet Cibara, they—likewise—followed suite, in acknowledging the king’s request, and gave their oath (although, Ura’el had stressed to the king time and again, how worthless a demons word is, that it was natural for them to like, like it was natural for humans on earth to eat). I doubt the king heard a word of Ura’el; he was always too busy trying to subdue the demon to build his Great Enclosure of Cibara.
Thus, the king’s citizens rejoiced when the Enclosure was completed, and the demonic forces equally, then Noge reported to his kind, that Ura’el would not return unless the king destroyed the Enclosure.
Queen Lihterb, of Cibara for some odd reason, but 16-years of age when she married the king, fell in lust with Noge, and swore to him not to tell her husband of their affair—in fear he might destroy the Enclosure, and be rescued by Ura’el for he had his plans. Plus, there would be a child born, a hybrid, and should the king find out it was not his child, he would have it killed, therefore, he had an once of control over her.
“Be content, my king, I am with child,” the young queen told her husband, and remembering her oath to Noge, she remained silent of her promiscuousness.

2
The Demonic counsel

The king after hearing the good news of his wife being with child, never questioned her allegiance to him, the subject of whose child it might be was not in question, not in his mind at this time anyhow, it simply did not occur to him that she would be cohabitating on the side with a demonic being.
By and by, the fear within the king rose as the demons took over sections of the planet, a slice at a time, little by little, hoping to eventually have the whole of the planet under their control, it was just a matter of time, or so it seemed.
The child was born, and its name was Malsi, and the father was not Cibara of course, but rather Noge, and all 150-demon hand a great laugh the night of his birth.
There was an once of hope, if not excitement among the demonic forces of complete takeover of the planet in time, thereafter, if only they could out wait Cibara, his death would mean immediate control, especially with the Malsi, whom would be next in line to be king, and he was one third supernatural, or demonic, and two-thirds flesh, or his kind.

In the following years, a great counsel came to be on the planet, called “The Demonic Counsel (of Cibara),” as it become known. And the king elected Malsi to attend it, since he seemed to get along with the followers of Noge, better than he, and so he did attend, and brought back to the king the wishes of the counsel, which were really—expectations, if not down right demands.

3
A Hundred Years

It was perhaps a hundred years or so when the king heard of battles to be among the demon. They didn’t want to wait for the king’s death, matter of fact, they were fighting among themselves, and thus, Malsi build an underground structure in case there was a rebellion between flesh and spirit forces in the near future.
These were times when the king was uneasy to say the least; his strength to hold onto his kingdom was dwindling.

(King Omlu/the Hybrids) It was also a time when his father King Omlu, on planet pre-Moiromma was back in the land called Rabmid, where he had met Ura’el and refused his assistance. The king had given birth to several hundred children from the barbaric women of the South, wherein, a change in the mentality of the inhabitants slowly changed, to being more alert, quick thinking, and perhaps a little on the feeling side, yet, the barbarism did not leave their blood and soul completely. New life was developing on Moiromma, while on Cibara, it seemed to sicken the atmosphere, as the demonic forces become more and more powerful, and produced more children, hybrids, flesh and spirit, and the original inhabitants slowly died off, one by one. And for the most part, the children known as the hybrids came to live in ‘The House of Noge.’

For some odd reason, Malsi would not marry, and spoke little to the demonic forces, and likewise, to his king. His demonic father, somehow he knew, was told, and hated him, yet to survive he learned timing, and silence, he said only what he had to, and felt no secret was a secret once told, and told very little of anything, except what he had to. In essence, he did a lot of looking the other way, especially when he saw injustices; his mother being his aid and shelter.

4
King Omlu’s New Kingdom

The king, King Omlu, still on planet Moiromma, found himself back in the west province called, Rabmid, where he started to rebuild his kingdom, sloppy it may have looked, of tall timbers, and towers, and fences several feet tall, but it was a beginning. The Great Sea was not far off shore from his fortress of sorts, and here he lived in his wooden stronghold, with some two-hundred followers—adults and several hundred children, perhaps close to one thousand inhabitants.

Note: See Introductory Chapters to “The Cadaverous Planets” (Parts I & II Planet Cibara)) Written: 2-31-2; Lima, Peru.

Notes (Characters):

Cibara: First King of Planet Cibara (lived 800-yars)
Malsi: Son to Cibara
Niets: wife to Cibara (whom slept with a demon and bore Malsi)
King Omlu: Father to Cibara (Nomadic leader of the pre-Cibara inhabitants living on pre Moiromma (in the Northlands)
Queen Omluo: wife to King Omlu, mother to Cibara
Ura’el: Angelic being sent as a messenger to King Omlu
Rabmid (Part of Ancient Moiromma, toward s the Great Sea of the West)
Noge: Lust Demon from Earth, living on Cibara
Queen Lihterb: Cibara’s wife

The Legend of Cumbayo (The Guardian of Cumbayo, 6000 BC)

2007-05-08T17:30:00.001-07:00

The Legend of Cumbayo
(The Guardian of Cumbayo, 6000 BC)

Cumbayo, the Sanctuary (Temple, 6000 BC)

Note: Half of this account was written in flight, leaving Cajamarca (5-7-2007), to Lima Peru (a few days after visiting the site of Cumbayo (5-26-2007), the other half was written a day after my arrival back at Lima, at El Parquettos restaurant, 5-8-2007.

The Sanctuary (or Stone Castle)

(Written in Flight, diary notes: part one) It was in may of 2007 I visited the temple in the valley of Cajamarca, better known as the Sanctuary, a most impressive site, dating back to 6000 BC, and the petrography (Rock Art) dating back to 1000 BC, when I, by myself entered this most famous, but most recently discovered narrow passage of Cumbayo, likened to a natural castle like stone structure in the middle of nowhere, towering into the sky like Babel, the passage going from one side of this solid rock formation, mountain size almost, to the other side, perhaps some sixty feet long, one third of those feet in pitch darkness, and tight as two feet wide in some places. I ventured to enter and zigzag across it alone, knowing here lived a people, 8000-years ago, who used this place as a sanctuary, and this narrow passage discovered some thirty-years ago, was perhaps their hidden doorway.
The rock art or petrography dates back to 1000 BC, some 5000-years after the place became inhabited.
As I wedged my way through this curving maze, I got stuck between the walls, my arms became limp, its muscles inactive, my breath almost nil from exhaustion, I remained motionless for the moment, trying not to panic, I was in the middle of this passage way, in the dark area.
I got thinking of the great stones in front of this stone castle like structure, it seemed to have been carved into a face, a section of it anyway, perhaps of some great warrior, or king I thought. This stone structure had tower like formations around it.
I was becoming more exhausted by the minute. Cramped and caught in this dreadful thin passage, my mind seemed to drift, by purpose or force, drift I say, into a dream or visionary state, who can tell at such a moment, under duress.

I saw a figure, its eyes brighten and his breath came more quickly as He replied, saying, “What is your care?” There was some kind of infinite pride in his voice and manner, he meant what he said.
I shrugged my shoulders, I really didn’t know. I nodded. His mind was working his face I noticed; he said to me, “I am the guardian, and I sense you cannot, and I can….” It wasn’t a question I noticed, rather a statement. I think he meant, I was stuck, and he could help, if he wanted to. It didn’t seem like he really didn’t want to, but perhaps he might.
He told me to tell you of their existence “Tell the world,” he said, “and for those who come to except this as an honor to enter this ancient temple and not to touch.”
I was still into this dream or trance state, perhaps he was waiting for me to say, or agree with him, yet if he could read my face, as I did his, he would know I would write this article, or story as I am doing now.

The Captive and the Walls
(Part Two)

(Written at the Restaurant, while having Coffee) At this point the whole offer was a private one—almost personal between me and the Guardian, but with a public agenda, which belonged to the ancestors. I remember now, however, there was no energy left in me, just a sanctuary of worship and a guardian, and he felt a tinge like I was invading, and perhaps wanting me to go on my own.
He seemed to know; the world would come to this location in time, and didn’t want to deny it, but wanted to preserve it for the future use in its destined way.
And now, a few days passed, sitting down at this restraint in Lima, and this is still held in mind—and unsure if he guardian was, or is devoted to his word of ultimate undoing of me, should I not do as I agreed.
I remember asking the Guardian said, “How was it back then?” and his Reply was, “Thee came anarchy in the valley, and that brought the lack of all things—with heart-breaking persistence, we tried to overcome, and this brought our writings into existence, but we could not tell the whole story until perhaps 1000 BC, from the rock art, or as you call it, petrography!”

The Walls

(I remember staggering back against the wall, I actually had room I told myself, and still I heard his utterances, the Guardian’s)
As I looked about, I noticed hands and finger marks scratched into the wall, all the way down the wall, how I could see this in the dark area was beyond me, I must still had been in a trance or dream-vision state; it is hard to tell now that I look back at it…but I do remember the thick stone walls, the deep dust on the floor, and the marks on the walls. The walls seemed to take my breath away. The walls seemed to have impulses: that is to say, they reached to the mind of the Guardian, and obeyed him.

Captive

This narrow passage was to me not only thin, but locking me up, captive, imprisoned, caged, yet I kept my head, and now I understood why my struggles ceased, and I seized the moment and found myself moving a few more feet forward in the passage, and light, yes, light appeared, and as I moved out into the day (I don’t remember how long I was in there, but the sun was like a big lamp upon me, thus, it must had been a few hours, I rubbed my eyes). So I would tell myself at the time: never go back into this cave unless you are with someone. But still I was not sure if all of this was a dream or not, so as you can verify, I am doing my duty, by writing this, and you reading this, so no curse can befall me. Inside this cave, in the dark section I read (I do not know how, for it was in a language 3000-years old, written on stone): “For men whom come through this passage, be quiet, hands free, be like feathers, thin and masked.” The Guardian.

Curse of the Mysterious Honeybee [Part of the Cadaverous Planets]

2007-05-03T14:04:00.000-07:00

33

Curse of the Mysterious Honeybee
[Part of the Cadaverous Planets]

Chapter One
The Plan

(Tfarcevol))Tig)) where did they come from? It was a question everyone was asking and now there were a lot of conspiracy theories. But they came from the hands of a Moirommalit, perhaps the most famous intellectual of Planet Moiromma, the planet outside the solar system of earth’s, which runs parallel (the year is AD 2016).
Tig, or Tfarcevol, had lived his life, as legend tells it on this cold planet called Moiromma, but he was resurrected into a ghostly form, he couldn’t transform himself completely, I mean it was his 101-resurrection, and he did so, so he could guard the citadel of Haiti. I suppose if any man on Moiromma could figure out a way to get one more resurrection out of life, or existence’s future, it would have been him, known as the Plato, the wise man of Moiromma, the Einstein of his Planet of his day, he now was on earth, and had left the citadel in Haiti to its own accord, he had bigger plans. He wanted to starve the world, mad he was, or became, and angry as if earth had done Moiromma wrong, had wronged Moiromma by hunting down his countrymen like missing links. They had done that for some 1000-years, thinking they were misfits, calling them Grendel, and other such names.
And so he devised his plan, it would involve starving the United States first, then parts of South America, those parts that supplied the world with medicines, such as, along the Amazon, then Canada, and Europe, the great economies of the world, then the whole world per se.

He made his home in St. Paul, Minnesota, a conservative city of the Midwest, and there, on Abermable Street, his neighbors unaware of his workings, he drew out his plans, in the vacant house at 1094, owned previously by a poet, he knew slightly by his interest in his planet; he knew he was at this time in Peru, and his house was up for sale, and would remain in Peru for a long spell.

He created in the basement of this house, a chemical called HBPV (The Honeybee Pollinate Virus). This would stop the honeybee from pollinating the flowering crops of the world, which is perhaps 90%, dealing with apples, nuts, avocados, soybeans, asparagus, broccoli, celery, squash and cucumbers; to include, citrus fruit, peaches, kiwi, cherries, blueberries, cranberries, strawberries, cantaloupe and other melons.
It has been said one third of humanities foods comes from insect-pollinated plants, and the honeybee is responsible for 80% of the pollination process. On Moiromma, there is no pollination at all, nor honeybees. This he figured would even destroy the cattle, which ate alfalfa, and of course the bee is involved with this process as well. Thus, it would take but a few years until the collapse of the world food chain he figured. And the virus would not infect anyone but the bee population. And by the time the scientists found the cure, the food supply would be next to nil, and money would not be able to buy a once of beef, fruit or vegetable; there just wouldn’t be any to buy, period!.

Chapter Two
The Virus

It took Tig, several months to mix the ingredients he needed. His ghostly form, could be thickened to an almost fleshly structure, and with his capability of flight, he himself absorbed the virus in its liquid form, and in the dark of the night, knowing the honeybees of America, were not equipped to combat his poisons and disease very well, he flew over the honeybee farms of America and exposed them to his absorbing poisons, as if being a parasite.
Thus, the bees could not weather this storm, the tempest Tig of Moiromma threw at them. One by one, each day, everyday, 365-days the first year, Tig, filled his body up like a balloon, like a sponge, a parasite, and planted his seeds, his perfect infection; they had no resilience to bounce back.
Then he went on to Brazil and Peru, infecting the waters and insects along the shores, the crisis threatened to wipe out the crops there as it had in the United States, it was just a matter of time now. Then onto Europe he went.
The first year, the value of the devastation from the short supply of food was $15-billion dollars in the USA alone, the second year the same, and 10-billion for Europe. The third year he infected all 17,000-species of bees, and a world food supply of $135-billion dollars, from Japan, to China, Europe and America, and Brazil, for the most part.

Chapter Three
The Bees?

As the scientists figured out, there were no worker bees in their hives, just new born bees, and the queen. Evidently the bees seemed to have left the hive, died off some other place, they were not present. They looked for them everyplace. What Tig had done was, weakened the bee, and distorted his mind as well as infecting his internal pollination processing abilities, so he could not make it back, or even figure out where he came from, and he’d die in some lonely spot, a few days later, trying to pollinate.
The governments of the world tried radically to reintroduce new bee colonies to the world, and some of it worked, but it was the forth and fifth year of Tig’s revengeful plan, and he had done a lot of homework, and leg work in this ongoing disaster, and the world could not keep up with demand and supply, and the people of the countries involved, became parasites themselves, killing as they did on Moiromma for flesh to eat, cannibalism became a new hypothesis for the people of the world to ponder on (for survival purposes), as it was normal on Moiromma (he had created a one-celled parasite fungus), and spread it around the world).
The Captive colonies of the USA sank (in 2019) to 100,000-honeybees, from almost six million in 1947. What one of the scientist wanted to do, had plans to do was to equip the new born honeybees with genes that would take poisons out of its system, if planted into them, an immune-disease-fighting gene, consequently, whatever toxins came into it, would not affect the bee in the long run.
Once Tig got hold of this information, he flew to Troy University, where Doctor Jerry Mayo was doing his experiments, vulnerable he was in his lab, so Tig thought, Tig behind him watching (he did have a high respect for scientists, he was one, once himself, and so he remain still in amazement and observing Mayo’s progress, perhaps a mistake at best, curiosity always kills the cat, so I am told), he noticed his beehive thriving, he had found the formula for the next generation, and kept this hive germ free.
As Tig, materialized feeling safe, Doctor Mayo instinctively feeling he was present (and evidently knowing something about the inhabitants of Moiromma, and the legends of Tig), quickly sprayed Tig with a paralyzing solution.

Written 5-3-2007

The Cigar [a chapter story/Reedited 5/2007]

2007-05-02T22:24:00.000-07:00

The Cigar [a chapter story/Reedited]

For some odd reason Günter’s mind started shifting into a different mode, he was at an old friends work place, at a party [dreaming]; he always liked a good cigar now and then, on special occasions that is, --and Molly, the secretary, asked him if he wanted one. He looked at her, said “yes,” in an inquisitive way, and to his misfortune, it was quite small. Bewildered he gave no response except, a shallow: “Thanks,” and went about and lit it. Then the old friend the one that mysteriously appeared, appeared one might say out of nowhere was sitting by him, he wanted to try the cigar, check it out, and smoke it that is. But there wasn’t much, especially for both of them, and only nearly enough for him. Plus, there didn’t seem to be enough air in the room, and of course; you cannot share what you do not possess (he confessed to himself), and if there is a want or need, it is on the beholders side. Nonetheless, he hesitated, and looked stern into his face, his youthful face, a face that didn’t age like his, “I have an idea,” he says to the old friend, “put the end of this cigar into your pipe, and then you’ll have enough to enjoy.” The mystic friend looked at him pleased, and just happened to have a pipe on hand, and pulled it out while Günter put the cigar—what was left of it anyways—into the barrel of the pipe, and gave it to his stranger-friend. As the friend smoked from the pipe he started to choke, as if he was spitting up tobacco, pieces of the cigar, or blood, something; his throat was choking on it anyhow, and it was burning, a fatal burning sensation. He didn’t know what to do, so he told him, “...here, here take some water, swallow it quick, and cool the throat, it’ll put out the flame,” and the friend did so, and all was well for the moment.
Now, Günter walked away from the table, and its festivities, finding himself by the store next to the office party. He noticed cigars for sale, big cigars—, now he thinks: ‘…why didn’t Molly tell me they had big cigars here, instead of the little one?” thinking of course, it would have possible solved the problem with him sharing his cigar and not causing the coughing of his friend. ‘Peculiar,’ he tells himself, very odd indeed, yet it is left at that. Then the old man shook his head, told himself to stop day dreaming, rescue Jean-Lee. As he found himself opening up his eyes, he was also spitting out water. (He had been drowning, sinking, in the Mississippi, and had mentally let go for a moment; now above water, his mind reactivated.)

Originally written 2004, reedited 5/2007; a chapter story from the writings of: “Look at Me!”

Tango: The Glories of Romance (Buenos Aires/a short story)

2007-04-30T22:54:00.000-07:00

Tango:
The Glories of Romance
(Buenos Aires/a short story)) 4-30-2007

Had he told her what was on his mind, she would surely not have been grateful. He believed what she said, that she was in love with him, even though he was trying at times. They were in love, and watching a show, a Tango show, at ‘Restaurant 36,’ in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Three couples were doing the Tango (an artful alluring dance that was brought over from immigrants from Europe around the turn of the 20th century, a combination of several dance steps put together, it was of course then refined to what it is today).
Manuel—looked at Brazil with wanting eyes. He did not dare to ask for want he had on his mind (he figured he’d get it later) even the wine didn’t force it out of him, and uncounted beers, slowly does it, he told himself, if anything he felt painfully sober. For these four hours in the bar-restaurant and show house. He had figured he was either in love with her, or in lust perhaps, with her, so he told himself anyhow, at the age as theirs, it goes hand in hand, one might conclude.
‘Why,’ he asked himself, sitting at the table, watching the Tango show, ‘why had he not come to some conclusion sooner?’ They were on a vacation (kind of) the first one they had ever taken together, from Lima they took a plane, and were to spend a week in Buenos Aires, kind an overdo pre engagement vacation, although they were not engaged either. They had been friends since early on in primary school, and throughout high school, at which time one might have concluded they were sweethearts and friends, but she never did anything with him, he was seldom around. And for some reason, now he was pressing her to get married, both 25-years old. If anything, she was used to him, familiar might be a better choice of words, she didn’t know him as well as he knew her.
His blood was boiling. This new intensity she seemed to give him was evidence he figured, that she was the one and only. He had dated many girls, but it was Brazil who he compared them with, and they all fell short of his expectations of course. He was a thief by profession, but she didn’t know it. If anything, she was oblivious to it, and unknowingly teaching him what a man is, or suppose to be, which he was becoming not becoming, but pretending to be, the result of her tutoring, which she took from observation of her father was at best annoying.
“Manual,” she said, “I am so glad you are not one of the many thieves in Buenos Aires, or Lima, not one of the many, but you seem like a man, like my father, who has lived to a high degree of integrity.”
Manual, didn’t quit understand that simply statement to be taken as a word of praise, he didn’t really see her point. But said nothing to spoil the moment, I guess, he told himself, it was kind words, she respected him. But why did she put ‘man’ involved with this. I mean, he felt like a man, I guess, he looked like a man, but now she implied, all this looking, and feeling were not the ingredients that make a man. What exactly did, he didn’t know. This bothered him.
“And what is that,” he asked.
“What is what?” replied Brazil.
“What is it that makes a man a man, according to you?”
She hesitated a minute, not because she could not answer his question, only that such a question came out of his mouth. Those kind of questions are from people that are offended, and how could he be offended, I mean, this was evident, if he was a man, and had man qualities, he would not have to ask her what she thought they were, he would, and should know.
“God knows a man has only himself, and good works to offer, he should influence those around him, influence is the quality of leadership, and all men should have this; it is a God given gift. Man is supposed to lead in a household, how can he lead if he does not take this God given gift from God seriously. A man doesn’t take from the weak, not like a thief, who tries to take from another he knows he can. But he is a soldier of sorts. He does not laugh at someone’s tears, or a child hurt while playing, he has passion between them.” (She had remembered at that moment what her father had told her, “…not all males, old or not, can define a man, because they are not men, although they look like them, feel like a man, because they are mature physically, but that is not the ingredients that make men.” In addition, her father once old her, “I was hungry, very hungry, living in Seattle, Washington, and I saw a boy selling candy at night, going from house to house, and I was going to rob him, but I couldn’t, and the reason being, it is not what a man would do. The boy was perhaps 12-years old, and I was twenty, it would have set a trend for the rest of my life, that it was ok to so such things. I would starve to death before I’d rob from another, what does not belong to me. If God can feed the sparrows, he will surely feed me.”)
“Ludicrous,” came out from under his lips; she could see that he could not see this squarely. And for a moment he despised her (it showed on his face, and she saw it). ‘
It would seem he did not appreciate her honesty, and her insight. He stared at her, at her unique awareness. How lovely she looked her excellence, her soft hair falling over her forehead; her shinning like crystal eyes, her completion—polished like ivory. He was caught between his wit and her truth.
She started to think he never gives advice, like papa said, or would say, ‘why?’ and add, ‘perhaps it is in conflict with his lifestyle, so this was surfacing.’ She really didn’t know his other side, the side that gratified him to keep secretes, and her father once said, ‘secrets are for those whom wish to hide the truth, they come out sooner or later, and usually later with men trying to become whom they are not to hogtie a woman to them; you see, they become the person they think you want them to be, not whom they really are; embarrassing as it may be, when the truth comes, it is usually too late for the woman. You see, a man cannot play the roll of a man forever, if he is more than what he claims to be.’

It happened to be, Manual ran into an old friend of his, “Adelmo, how are you, how you been?” Adelmo was with one of the Tango girls, that was on stage a few minutes ago. They both looked under the weather, boozed up, half drunk.
“Whatever is he doing so drunk?” came out of Brazil’s mouth. “Who is he to you?” She added. (She also remembered what her father told her: ‘…be watchful for whom the man you date, hangs out with, it is usually they are like two peas in a pod, so do not be deceived, if your date tries to avoid them, it is for sure….’)
“Lord, it’s been long since we’ve worked together….” he said accidentally. Had he had a chance to retrieve those words, those simply words, he would have.
“Work—what kind of work?” she asked.
“Does it really matter?” he sharply said.
“It doesn’t anymore,” she said, listening to her instincts, “I just assumed it might.”
Having discovered Manual to have a new or different nature than what was displaced up to this point, and him assuming, they were stuck together in the city, he was being a little careless with showing his true character.
She stood up, informed Manual she needed to go to the bathroom, and she did just that (as he carefully watched her go through the door), but on her way out of the bathroom (Manual was busy talking to his friend, as she predicted), there was a door at the other end of the building, she walked right past the pool tables in the back room, where several young bucks checked her out, but she kept on walking pas them out onto the sidewalk, and flagged down a taxi, and told him—“To the airport,” leaving her cloths and the few items she had brought along where they lay in the hotel room, and caught the next flight back to Lima.

Walking with the Dead (a short paranormal story from Iceland)

2007-04-21T14:43:00.000-07:00

Walking with the Dead

(A Minnesota short story of suspense)) I once heard, or read, “The dead are dead, leave them be.” Indeed I thought, I shall, but how dead can dead men be, I would learn soon (and they all laughed as I said that).
I saw what I saw, down they marched down a low path in a silent procession to the sea, these ghostly figures with stern like faces, the spirits of earth, air and water, old soldiers marching; amazed I was to see through the fog like mist, see these phantom ghosts, this evening along the Icelandic coast (I had come here from Minnesota, to visit, a weekend, come by myself to get away from my tenants, I had 21-tenants I rented my houses to, 21-families that is, and I often took a long weekend, or a short one and few here and there, Iceland, was my selection this time, outside of its capitol city Reykjavik; of which I was some forty miles out, and on a cliff, I was I say, for now I was walking down this path to its sea with them.)
I could see these shapes, by way of the moonlit sea, the rocks and cliffs all about had a gleam to it; they had grim eyes, with no blinking or lids, ghosts with an uncommon gray to them, lamp lit crimson eyes. Long stringy hair, some naked, some with old garments on, some almost demonic like, all primitive looking, some even with primate tails, so it seemed, akin to slaves, Moors, Crusaders (from the 11th Century), barbarians, even some WWI soldiers, some Saxons, Romans and Greeks; all marching lordly to the sea, as if they had been lost, and now found. Someone was leading them, in this long thin line that stretched out for several hundred feet, perhaps two to three hundred of them. The figure leading them looked physical, I saw him turn about a few times, briefly saw him; men of the past great wars. I myself was a war veteran, Vietnam was my war. It all was so very strange, why could I see them? I was aghast. I told myself: get out of here before I get caught in some web. The leader again looked back at me, as if he was trying to see if I was following him because I could see the dead, or perhaps out of simply walking to the sea, for personal reasons, and not able to see the dead, thus, he stopped the group, and I stopped. His eyes opened wide, as if surprised, as if he was astounded I could see these so called wondering spirits. Then he started back up again. A few of them watched me; put really paid me little attention, and continued on their way.
I couldn’t stop, I found myself walking with the dead out of intrigue almost. With wondrous uncertainty I hurried along behind this long line or procession of ghostly spirits, sea bound. My feet got weaker and my knees heavy the closer we got to the sea. Then I started to hear voices in my head, as if the leader was talking to me, paranormally—, the jest of it was, under the sea there was a porthole for lost souls on earth, and these were souls that had been lost for centuries, and had found their way to this location, one of several throughout the world. And evidently, the scout, or reconnoiter in front was leading them to their fate, the door to their next beyond.
Amongst themselves the spirits, these two-hundred souls, marching onward, talked in diabolical whispers, social talk to a certain degree, in all sorts of languages. The closer I got to the sea, the dimmer they became. As they reached the sea, evening turned into twilight, and twilight into night-night. There was a chill to the night all round me, and it was summer I’ll have you know, hot nights normally, but with all these walking dead, I felt like I was in an ice-box, then there was a stillness that prevailed on the shore. The water receded, and the spirits quickly walked into the sea, and in a moment’s time, sank into the waters, as the current rebound. Next I noticed the hissing water bubbled, souls murmuring echoes that seemed to fill the night air, then I figured they must had found the door, for their prevailed a stone-silence all around me, as I stood in the water up to my knees, the tide out, yet coming in fast.
The tided then came upon me, like a black vulture, unrepentant, and covered me, and when I caught my breath, and the tide moved out again, I found myself buried up to my next in sand, and a man peering over me, the very man that was leading the dead this location, and when he spoke, his voice was that very voice that I heard in my head.
“You will be perfect,” he said to me, as if he had designs on my future. Then he added, “You could see the dead, there are not many of us that can, you are one of the few…!”
I was confused with all these happenings, to say the least, my mind in a chaotic whirl. It was almost impossible to believe this man, whom said he was walking with the dead, to their porthole of entry on earth, to join the dead beyond it. But I had seen it with my own eyes, and so what could I say. I even thought for a moment, this was all a dream (I did suffer from the lack of sufficient sleep), and then got thinking next, was he not going to unbury me?
Then like a worm stuck in a hole, he pulled me out easily, and I found myself standing next to him. “You are my replacement.” He said, humorously, but with a serious enough face to make me believe he meant it.
“No…!” I said, “I don’t think so…!”
He then told me, he had been walking the dead for over a hundred and fifty-years, and before him, there was another fellow, and before him another, all the way back to the days of the Vikings, and then some. I said nothing more for a few minutes, letting him explain to me what he felt he had to, watching the blaze in his eyes, as if he was tired of the job, and wanted to get on with life else where. I assumed he must had been close to 200-years old by the way he was talking.
“You have a gift, and you will have to use it for the next hundred years or so, walking the dead, how else will they find their way to the porthole in the sea?”
To be frank, I didn’t really care, I wanted to get on out of there, and started to walk away.
“Wait a minute,” he said, “if you leave, I will have to put you back where I dug you up! I only saved you to take my place.”
Revenge is sweet I thought, now he threatens me, but I PAID HIM NO HEED, AND IN A FLASH, something hit me from behind, on the head, when I woke up, I was back into my cramped quarters in the sand, and the tide was coming, I could hear it, and the old man standing over me like a prison guard, smirk on his face.

Conclusion: “That is really all I remember folks, because when I woke up, I was down here with you, standing at this porthole, waiting.” (Then all the newly arrivals, started laughing over my story)) all the dead, that surrounded me in the deep of the sea; we all laughed together then, as the old man—so I could see afar —was bringing in a new load of lost souls.))

Written 4-18-2007/edited 4-21-2007

The Rude Chamber (part of the Cadaverous Planets)

2007-04-20T23:39:00.000-07:00

#32

The Rude Chamber
(And the Voodoo Guardian of Haiti)

A short story within the Paranormal/part of the Cadaverous Planets

(Whatever Happened to Tfarcevol?)

Advance: Tfarcevol the Wise, seen in the pages of the History of Moiromma, and the Cadaverous Planets, had his 100-lives, as did most Moirommalit’s, but for some reason, out of the velvet darkness he was cast into where his mind and soul went, he was chosen, and resurrected for the 101st time, but there was a reason for this, as there is for most everything within the universe—to be the Voodoo Guardian of the Citadel in Haiti (this happened in 1986, how long he was the guardian I do not know, perhaps since the time of Napoleon; the story has been handed down to me by a woman named Sam Pound, I shall narrate it in the first person, and do my best to see it his way, Dan Weber’s way, the friend of Sam’s.)

[The Citadel] Its passageway let up to the chapel, I and Sam, my female, assistant, walked slowly through it by candle light, it reflected on the walls, glowed on the floor, the ceiling, made a lovely hauntingness to the thick stones walls. The Citadel was built in the early 1700s, on top of a hill, 3000-feet hill, it took 20,000-Haitians to build it, in fear Napoleon would takeover the Island; evidently he had such intentions, and it never happened. Thus, it was built in a hurry and many of the forced labor were killed in the process. Perhaps the citadel can be more of a crematory than a fortress, but it has been called the 8th wonder of the world.
The year was 1986, when I was there with Sam, I was thirty- nine years old then, and she was ten-years younger. Both of us were treasure hunters (looking for collectables of the ancient), part time archeologists you might say.
We had found the chapel, it was blocked off, and we had to go under the floor, and through the walls, and up again. A new roof was being put on over the chapel, and most of the work had been done, it was evening, and the workers had gone home. We were unobserved, Sam Pound, was from Minnesota, like me, Dan Weber; I lived on Jackson Street in the city of St. Paul. This was not our first adventure together.

[Midnight] The evening was intensely hot, my body was sweating pitilessly. In another hour we would attempt to locate the treasure we came for. I pulled out a book to read, by Bram Stoker, “Lady Athlyne.”
During this time a workman came on watch, a Haitian, checking out this and that, the doors in particular, the ceiling and roof, etc, and so forth. He then left as he arrived, and I started to read afresh, trying to figure out between sentences the secret place were the writings were, the treasure we sought after. (The treasure being the secret scriptures of Moiromma; they were taken to earth by Agaliarept, the henchman of Hell, hidden from everyone because of a three-year war that took place on the Planet, and now guarded by a voodoo priest, also known as the Prophet of Moiromma, or wise man of Moiromma, Tfarcevol.)
Not much was known of him, only legends told of some far off planet, and he was resurrected from the dead, to guard the scriptures, ones he had written long before they were taken to earth, written on his Planet. Anyhow, I was hoping most of this was legend, not fact, only the scriptures. Normally, 90% of legends are bull, and 10% fact, so I’ve found out in my worldwide search and travels.
I put my book down, got thinking, and strangely enough Sam stood up, looking down, over me: like a cat looking above a mouse; she was still, as I lay on the floor. She was hauntingly looking, which didn’t connect to her breeding or personality. I forgot about the treasure for a minute, lost all interest in it, lost in a contemplation of her despair. I quickly stood up and said horridly “What is the problem with you?” Thinking she saw something, and was paralyzed by it, or shock in seeing it.

[Trembling Spirit] She spoke in a strange low tongue, one I had never known. Her body became contorted, as if there was a spirit form inside of her, too large for her, and her skin was budging like rubber being stretched to its limits. She was trembling, or so it seemed, and in a low rustic voice that was not hers, slowly, the language she was speaking turned into English, almost a gradation, syllables being worked out, the words were forming. Then she said, “If I offended you, pardon me!” then added, “I am not the owner of this body, as you well know, but I am the guardian of this citadel, as you should know, and known as Tfarcevol the Wise, from Moiromma. And you see, if it is the treasure of the scriptures you are after, I cannot allow this, it must—in time—be returned to Moiromma.”
Then she raised her hand in protest, “Stop your search, and I will release your woman friend….” I had also read about this legendary planet, and knew should I do as this spirit said, it could not be trusted, and I wanted the scrolls.
In all respects, the spirit that filled Sam to the brim, if he was good natured at one time, he was no longer, in a ward, he was bad, but he could not possess two people at once, so I had a chance to escape, or try to deal with it. I paused a moment, my eyes roving about, to see what I could do, Slam’s fingers nervously moving about, trifling perhaps. “Be careful,” the spirit said, I think the scrolls were in the room and I was making him nervous.
“Do you not see the importance of you leaving this area and not coming back?” The voice said inside Sam.
“Perhaps not,” I said.
“For many generations, many have come to find this treasure, only to find misfortune.” The voice alleged.
Again I thought the spirit, that called himself …the Wise, was playing games with me. Perhaps the treasure was nearby, and what could an old spirit do in a woman’s body, that was half my size, and I knew karate.
“There is not a corner of this chapel or for that matter, the whole Citadel that has not been searched so looking for the scroll is useless, plus I will not allow it even if you could find them.”
But I felt not all was lost.
“Someday someone will find them, you can’t stop everyone!” I stated.
“By that time, I will have given them to another Moirommalit, you see there are many of us down here on your planet, I simply cannot leave to find one, could I, they would have been given to one long ago.”
Before I could say another word, he leaped out of Sam, she must had said something to him (he mumbled something anyhow, as if he was talking to himself or Sam in a confusing dialogue), and leaped inside of me, quicker than a leopard. And the only thing I could see was her running out of the chapel door too freedom, as this large, perhaps seven to nine feet tall spirit, (for I saw him for a second, during the transfer). Then he went into the cellar, open up an old coffin, bones inside (I could hear Sam breathing, she must had come back for a moment to see what was taking place, because the spirit said…’shoo’ which I took for: go away), and he lay down, and he told me, “You will die here, and I will wait, and when you do, I will go about my business as normal.” He wasn’t going to leave my body quite yet.
I tried to negotiate with him, but he wouldn’t have it, he feared me, feared what I first feared, that he was lying; now he assumed I was lying, but I wasn’t, and I guess he wasn’t.

Written: 4-18-2007 (the author was in he Citadel in 1986, and it is a wonder to see)

No Eyes to Weep With (Revised 2-13-2008)

2007-04-20T18:07:00.000-07:00

#31

Part of the Cadaverous Planets

No Eyes to Weep With
[General Iromma of the Great War—on Planet Moiromma]
(A short paranormal story into Augsburg)Part Two of Two)

He killed with pride, which he offered his prey little of, in his graceful manner, even with a passion of hate which he held for them, he did not shame his victims too much, just enough to gain a violent reputation; his eyes burning into their deathly white faces he oppressed them, slowly, like boiling a frog alive, unnoticeable. He struck to kill, born of coldness. From such a general, one would think he would have to pay a price, but for three-hundred years, he did not on planet Moiromma, not until, after the war was won; he never had I say—but then, on the other hand, the war ended and fear does funny things to those we make into our heroes.
Anyhow, throughout the history of Moiromma, cruelty was not uncommon, just graceful cruelty was (by graceful I mean, he loved to kill, and though very little of his prey), his kind observed this with a fretful eye, but needed him to win the war; it was by his rare breed they won. He was a soldier the day he was born, and he did his duty, and it was to kill or be killed. When he killed it was never fratricidal, he was the general of a long drawn out war, which lasted three-hundred years, and he was almost immune to bloodshed. General Iromma, born and breed on Moiromma.
Many sneered at the General with sarcasm at the end of their lips, at the end of the war. He paid little attention to it, it was his job, duty to fight the Great War of Moiromma with the barbarian tribes of the Northlands and insure they would not crossover and into valley region again—as they had done and butchered many soldiers and citizens alike, for food; thus, they were starving in the Northlands, starving and eating ice rats, and bats, and worms, things of low nutrition you might say—not in the delicious category; yet, into the kingdom of King Moir the XI region they had penetrated, he drove them back, and captured what was left of them. It was said he captured the enemy and took them on the long march from the frozen lands of the north, to the valley to be punished, and gave them nothing to eat but snow on the way (some ate grass, brown grass, tundra grass you might say, when they could, when he was not watching, it may seem funny, but one can survive on such a diet); it was a death march, and they carried the soldiers packs and gear for them, the few that made it to the valley—that is. The General took out their eyes like plucking a yoke out of white surroundings; he took their eyes so they could not even weep among themselves, he didn’t like the noise. Thus, the uprising of the Northlands of Moiromma was stopped, once and for all. (It was Moiromma’s Great War, amongst the Cadaverous Planets.)

And so the General tolerated his trials without whimpering or showing his pain and scares in the many battles he had fought, and won for the king.
He told his Army, in the process of discharging them, “We do not bend, nor never did we, no more than today than when our great ancestors did when they swept the land, back when King Moir the 1st, ruled the land. Now you can say the three-hundred year war is past, and all but a dream, a great experience, indeed.”
So he addressed his public when he came back from war, and all celebrated his heroism. But they all feared him as well, and this brought a strange public demand on the king to insure their safety with such an animal for a public servant in peace time.
It was that very summer on the planet when things changed for him, for the General; summer on Moiromma, lasts only six-weeks out of a year, thus, much must be done in this short time. He was deadly pale and was healing, being nourished from the lack of protean of many years of fighting, his eyes a hollow glare, sunk deep into its sockets, the skin touching his skull. Yet he remained master of himself. It was right around this time the king made his announcement, for he had lost ground with the king because of the demanding public; he, the general, could not bend, or gain public sentiment for himself, they feared him too much, he never smiled you see, his eyes glared death to whom ever looked in them. He was all of seven feet tall, and the best soldier since his great grandfather, who was King Moir 1st general, and assistant.
Such a beast the general was, as he roamed the streets of the valley kingdom, where the caves were, and the King lived. In regards to the demands of the public, in consequence, the king spoke, and in so doing his words pronounced the banishment of the General, from the land, in fear of public reprisal. The general, like his great grandfather, asked for a review of history of Moiromma for additional information, and thus to think about what he, the king was doing. The king did not take a liking for this, and the general took note, and with a swing of his sword, decapitated the king right there and then, right where he sat, on this throne, decapitated him with a stiffly and lofty condescension, and he simply said, before he was overpowered and decapitated by the chamber guards himself, “I have pity to give the king no pain, that is why I took off his head, and not out his heart.”
Had the king been wise, he would have remembered his great, great grandfather, and what Iromma’s great grandfather had done, for that is what was written in the annuals of history, on the kingdom.

Benediction: legend has it, this old General, was resurrected on earth (as Moirommalit’s can do), in those far off days. Ending up in some part of Germany (I think Augsburg) as a butcher, or butchers helper, and died of old age on his 539th birthday, in 1972. Perhaps middle-aged for Moirommalit’s; he died with old fashion grace you could say, and courtesy and inconceivable haughtiness.

Written 4-20-2007 (reedited 2-13-2008)

Reeking Foulness(A short paranormal story out of Augsburg)

2007-04-19T18:15:00.000-07:00

Part of the Cadaverous Planets

Reeking Foulness
(A short paranormal story out of Augsburg)

The bed was of rags and straw, the old man seemed to be an old soldier of some sort, perhaps from WWI, I guessed; he slumbered about his shanty, in Augsburg, West Germany, 1970. A year I will never forget, he looked as if he had lived a long life, a hard lived life, and now, in a word, a wake drunk, so I thought because of his behavior. He had a haggard look to his bone structure, charcoal and olive skin, huge shoulders, and tall, perhaps close to seven feet; an unsavory look, a villainous composure, eyes hard. Curiosity to him—so it seemed—was of a thing of the past, he paid little to no attention to me, or the people walking by, or standing about waiting for buses, taxis and so forth: ‘…an old warrior,’ I said to myself, indeed he must be; WWI, yes, what else.
It was1970, I was lost in the beautiful city of Augsburg, the streets I was not familiar with yet; I was assigned to Reese Compound, US Military stock, the 1/36 Artillery Unit, A Battery (I was twenty-two years old, a Private), and it was a weekend, and I was moseying about. Being lost in a city was not a big thing to me back then; I could simply jump in a taxi and be back at my unit in fifteen minutes any place in Augsburg.
By this time, standing nearby this shanty of sorts, it was early afternoon, Saturday to be exact. In my confusion of where I was at, I saw a small creek, in a park close by, with a bridge that crossed it. I wanted to cross it, but got interested in the old man; nonetheless, I ventured beyond the old man’s shanty to the park and onto the bridge, elbows on the bridge’s wooded railing, looking over towards the old man again, the old German war veteran, or so I supposed he was. He was doing something: intimately each time I looked, I just did not concentrate on what.
The old shanty had but three walls to it, the front open, not sure if he had sliding doors attached to the ceiling, but I was hoping he did, how else could he secure the place at night. In any case, I didn’t cross the bridge, I walked to the edge of the park, his shanty across the street, sat on a tree stump, and pondered his business, like a peeping tom, I suppose you could say. I watched him doing whatever he was doing; I simply could not get a clear picture of what he was doing. He mumbled to himself in some language, it didn’t sound like German to me, and it wasn’t English, or Spanish, I knew all three languages.
The old man’s cloths was like a scarecrows; perhaps he was 90-years old (a guess of course) not sure why I say ninety, but it just seemed so, wrinkled and all, but he was agile, and strong looking, he could have been younger or older. He then pulled these old looking rags out from behind a stove, a hole in the wall it seemed, where he kept them, and then he chopped them up, and I got a better look by standing up, and gazing over the edge of the street, and he nailed them to the wall as if to dry, and he had some already drying, and now the rages, that I thought were rages, were not rags, but some kind of substance, funny I thought. I was now more curious.
I noticed he was boiling something, it was that substance, because he pulled some of them out, and chopped them also up, and a few he swallowed whole.
After about thirty more minutes, it got to me, what he was boiling on that small gas stove. My instinct or sentries said they were something eatable that was mysterious, so I walked across the street, looked closer and began to bethink —this was none of my business, or was it? Anyhow, my observations quickened as I approached, the old man’s eyes had a yellowish crust look to them, one I had never seen before.
There seemed to be no danger as I now stood in front of the shanty. Accordingly I began to look at the wall, what was in the boiling pan, the hole behind the table that held the little gas stove on top of it, in the corner, and on the table where he was doing the chopping, where there was blood. Then seizing the moment, I asked the old man if he knew what he was doing?
“Yes,” he echoed, as if the sound came from his feet; adding, “cooking leftover meat from the butcher shop across from my place.”
I looked closer, into the boiling water, on the wall, on the table, and what was hidden behind his coffee cup, perhaps not hidden, but laying there.
I held my mouth, for a moment closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I confirmed indeed I was seeing right. An unholy sense came upon me, and I said as nonchalantly as I could, “Sir, I hate to tell you, but you are cooking some species of bats.” (a species I had never seen before.)
He looked deep into my eyes, as if holding me in a trance, “I’m eating my food from my planet, it’s traditional, ice-bats…!” so he said, his eyes deep dark as the bats wings. I next took a moments rest, there on the floor behind him was a heap of bats, dead.

(—one thing never left my mind those ten months in Augsburg, which was the name of the butcher shop next to the old man’s shanty, “The Moiromma Special Cuts.” I would later on in life put two and two together, it was discovered (yet untold to the general public of earth) the adjacent solar system to Earth’s, that there was a peculiar plant, among the so called ‘Cadaverous Planets,’ called Moiromma, where legends of Tangor, Rognat, and Siren the Great were told, long told, long ago.)

Written: 4-19-2007

The Hermit’s Ghostly Dilemma (a short story)

2007-04-18T21:07:00.000-07:00

[The Hermit’s Ghostly Dilemma] Josh O’Hara lived a solitary life in the thick of a northern wooded area in Minnesota, near the town-let called Webster. He lived there most all his life, and when his father and mother passed on, he remained there. The family was somewhat known in Webster as the Hermit family, respectfully. I had met him once hunting for deer. I crossed his property. He lived in a little shack of a house, three rooms is all, and a tank of natural gas outside his hut, in the back, used for heating, and other things. I saw the opened door, as I come upon the shack, and then looking in, into the shack, I heard a voice in a nearby room, and asked:
“Is all well and fine in there?”
The voice called out, thanking me for my concern, and told me: he was physically well, but mentally he was having dreadful nightmares. In addition, he heard voices, saw shapes of faces in the middle of the night, overnight. He was having a hard time sleeping. He said there were legions of shapes all around his house each night. It was hard to fathom and to be frank I wasn’t sure what to say.
“Three months had gone by since I had my first nightmare,” he cried and whimpered in distress, adding, “…just thinking about it happening again, thinking about going through it another night is worse than going through it, living it.” Furthermore, he explained, he was dreaming the dead were coming for him, as well as seeing them wide awake waiting for him.

We sat down, around his small table, and I sat back on his wobbly wooden chair, and tried to comfort him. But I couldn’t remain the night, some thirty-miles away was my motel room, and some colleagues, that were to meet me, and we’d go out to a nearby bar and grill for a few drinks, conversation, and call it a night, so I explained to him. We were together a while longer, then I bid him farewell, and good luck, and suggested he pray a bit and surely all would be well by morning. He was more cheerful when I left, surely a lonely man caught in his own dilemma, alone in the woods with sounds that sounded like voices, and shadows that looked like shapes or ghosts. It all made sense to me, the mind can conjure up many illusions.
That night at the bar, I told my friends from St. Paul, Minnesota about the hermit I had met, and gave details on his delusions (so I thought); adding, “…he perhaps needs sleep more than anything else.” Well, all of us decided after the bar closed at 11:30 PM, to mosey on up to his shack. The moon was bright, with a few gray clouds overhead, seeping across it, and we had all most a full tank of gas, and I knew the way to the shack, it was not all that difficult to find, and as I said, we had some light out in this pitch dark countryside covered with towering trees and all.
(At this point and time, Josh O’Hara, was asleep, his bronze face sideways on his pillow, on his small iron looking bed, one the Army, I remembered, used back when I was in the Army in the ‘70s. We were very quiet, He, Josh woke up suddenly, looked at us, “Oh…!” he said, “you again…and you brought friends!” He wiped his eyes, as if to focus, then covering them again, saying, “they are out there waiting, I seen they walked by the window, in my nightmare, and just now—the window….” He pointed, and repeated. I think he was trying to weight what was reality and dream. He coved his face with his hands, and pouted.

“Stay here,” Josh cried, “when I see them again, I’ll tell you, point them out to you!”
We all pulled up chairs and sat around Josh’s table, drank coffee he had heated up on his gas stove, as he went back to his iron bed to rest, but couldn’t sleep, and got back up again, perhaps ten-minutes later, and lit a cigarette, after circling, pacing the floor and table, he sat with us as we played cards, poker for pennies, he didn’t play he just sat, perhaps he couldn’t concentrate I thought at the time. On his face I noticed relief though, and so we, he and my friends leaned back, and unnoticing, we all fell to sleep.
“Sins,” said Josh finely, waking us up, “I must tell you the whole story lest you find yourself in the thickness, without reason. I once loved a girl from town, her name was Susie Henderson. I loved her and so did that city slicker, John Weber. A crystal beauty, her skin shinned, we went to the same school, and when we were kids, we promised each other we’d wed someday, but Weber changed all that. The rich man from college came back to town, from the big city, and promised her everything, she had saved herself or him, not me, as we had once planned, and it was him at the end. I knew talking would not do any good, in saving her from heartache; he got her pregnant, and left her. She committed suicide, and I, I took it upon myself to even things up, I helped him with his suicide, I had him play Russian roulette, you know, the game where you pull the trigger of the gun, hoping it will stop at the empty chambers in the gun. Well he pulled the trigger, and the first pull was his last. Of course I had the shotgun aimed at him all the time. His parents were too late to save him, and the police simply accepted it as a grieving suicide case. But nothing is ever so easy is it, that was thirty-years ago. His father and mother died, and so did Susie’s, and most of their relatives on both sides, the last of the relatives, Weber’s brother, died three months ago. All died, all dead, all but me. And each night they try to smite me, but I wake up and time and shoo them away. This happens over, and over and over…night after night!”

Josh stopped for a moment, caught his breath, looked back out the window, and said “And so you see, I am in a ghostly dilemma. Can they really hurt me, I don’t know.”
We all listened to Josh attentively, listened to him gravely, his voice seemed afar, his eyes dreamy, his sprit almost broken, his mind confused, and all this new information changed things a bit. A strange story indeed it was, I thought. He was the recipient of murdering ghosts, wanting revenge, and I wasn’t sure of what to say, for the ghosts evidently wanted atonement for his misdeed. And perhaps, his family and Susie’s wanted to protect him, and all were fighting around his home, for it was the center of a three family dilemma—and familiar to all. A feud you could say, and he believed they wanted him dead to rest in peace, he was the last of the feuding you could say, the last link in a long and enduring chain of events.
Well, we watched for the evil ghosts, and none showed up, so in the morning we suggested he moved on back to town, or the cities, St. Paul, or Minneapolis, for we needed to move on, get on back home to go to work. It was Sunday morning, and Monday comes quick. None of us caught a deer but we had this story to tell of course.
Josh, was in his fifties, thanked me for my advise, as we left, but the following weekend, I went back up to his shack in the woods, to see how he was doing—; he was on my mind all week. I found his house was crushed to the ground, smashed to smithereens, and so I went directly in to Webster Township to find out what took place. The local sheriff told me, there evidently was a storm in the woods, or bears, all though there was none in town, and the trees had fallen on the house, and killed him. Lo and behold I thought what an odd occurrence. He couldn’t explain it fully, nor did he try.

Written 4-18-2007