Preeminent biologist, Philippe Krause, only wants to share his discovery with the world, but the world has forced him to become a
killer. The day he looked up from a microscope knowing DNA had revealed the secret to genetic immortality, he began plans for
announcing the discovery and his desire for all humanity to have it at no cost. No future generation would ever know old age or
disease.
His naivete lasts ten minutes. The moment he makes such an announcement a veil of secrecy will descend so black light cannot
escape. The government that controls mankind’s DNA, controls the world. They will move mountains to possess the technology.
But Philippe will not be denied his dream and so begins thirty years of preparation. He will de-fang the world’s major powers
from moving against him by destroying their clandestine strike forces. The stage is set. For the first time in history, the most
powerful humans ever to exist are about to appear: four genetically altered assassins.
The Sixth Ape - Opening Chapters
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
As part of an advance marketing campaign, I would like to offer those who either will or have purchased any one
of my novels the opportunity to obtain the eFile version of 'The Sixth Ape' at no charge.
Simply email me a picture of your eReader displaying the Copyright page of either 'They Cried Wolf', 'United States of Africa' or
'The Huntsman', showing the ISBN and ASIN numbers. In return, I will send you an attached copy of 'The Sixth Ape'. If you buy or
have bought all three I will include the eFile version of 'Seraphim'. Also at no charge.
Along with a stunned nation, Diego Constance gapes at the newscast. A frantic evacuation escalates as a virulent contagion
dissolves Midwesterners by the tens of thousands. It confirms the staggering betrayal he’s uncovered. His boss, the President of
the United States, is responsible. Masked by an engineered calamity, the President has maneuvered a panicked congress into granting
him dictatorial powers. A psychopath has slipped past the American electorate.
Despite legal constraints, Diego remains the Commander in Chief’s weapon of choice against national security threats. Killing
however makes for a lonely life and Diego longs for an end to his solitary existence. But first his scarred soul must once more
descend into a violent darkness.
A despot grips freedom’s throat. With each passing hour the stranglehold tightens. Whatever the cost, tyranny cannot stand. Diego
steels himself. The bloodlust swells. He will confront the most powerful, the most guarded man on earth. Diego’s cunning, hardened
by a brutal lifetime, guarantees nothing.
What no one knows, not even the President…the Executive Assassin is a werewolf.
Lauren Danielle Carson’s hours old Presidency has just crashed and burned. A classified report details what many have long conjectured. During her first term, a unified Africa will surpass the United States
as the world’s preeminent superpower. Her legacy will be the President on whose watch America joined history’s also-rans.
Desperate to reverse a decades-long decline, committees, panels,
experts, meetings, storm sessions fill her days and nights. Every effort to forestall the inevitable reaches a dead end. Slowly, inexorably, options diminish. When one remains, she faces the horrific, the
unthinkable.
Fate has intertwined two mirrored lives. She is white. He is black. She leads a nation. He conquered a continent. Her story is the present, his lies in the past. He begins as a brutal
warlord and ends up beloved and cheered. She begins beloved and cheered and ends up a despised outcast. She will destroy his achievements and in the act, destroy herself.
Millennia ago, Sorkens desperate to escape the Milky Way’s savagery, settled into our nondescript, out-of-the-way star group. Unaware of Earth, a shockwave spreads across their planet when humanity ignites its first wormhole. Led by a brutal crime lord, vicious warfare erupts among factions determined to control mankind’s gateway to the stars. All are oblivious to what an electro-magnetic beacon blaring across the galaxy implies.
Panicked, the Sorken Council meets to re-authorize a long-forbidden technology. Through their own wormhole, they send a Warrior Priestess. Before galactic wolves track the scent, she must destroy the device and everyone possessed of its knowledge.
Fate however, has its own designs. The Huntsman too seeks the device.
No one associates the Vatican with assassins. That their allies dwell in Western China's remote Kunlun Mountains makes it an easier secret to keep. Still, the tiny village of Yíncándí is not immune to the
vagaries of fate. Little does a lost mountaineer imagine what will become of the infant he leaves with the villagers. Nor can Trajan, an orphan of Christian missionaries, imagine the true nature of the
Buddhist monks raising him. Until the moment arrives when he must choose between Buddha and Christ.
Seraphim, Mujahedeen-like madmen of the Catholic world, have reignited their
centuries-old war against the Church. Continuing slaughter has placed Middle East Christians on extinction's edge and the Seraphim blame the Pope's cowardice. Their Cardinals marked for assassination
and trapped by their own secrecy, the Vatican must place their hope Trajan will stand between them and a religious war foreshadowing the apocalypse.
But things will become far more
complicated than anyone can imagine. As the battle lines harden between Muslim and Jew, Buddhist and Christian, a woman appears astounding the world with miraculous abilities and declaring herself the
successor to the prophets: the Servant of the One Lord.
This is a story that continues the tale of Little Red Riding Hood as told through the eyes of Little Red's
daughter, Crimson Ryder. She struggles to understand why a wolf plagues her family such that beginning with the great-grandmother,
her grandmother and mother have succumbed to the same horror. The adventure begins for answers to save herself but more
importantly, her future daughter. This is not a children's fable.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
On large screens, clicking any image (except book cover images) will display a larger version. Click again to close it. The left and right arrows will cycle
through the pictures carousel style. Clicking the book icon will open the full, scrollable novelette (13 chapters plus a prologue)
with imagery. For greater reading convenience, clicking the arrow icon will permit downloading the entire PDF (1.5mb) novelette
in zip format to the download folder your browser is configured for. And, oh yeah. At no charge.
Simone Stanton never imagined capping a brilliant career with promotion to admiral would bring such heartache and
grief. Solona Stanton, rejecting her family's military traditions, disappears into a hellish pit of anguish and despair. One wants
to end the pain. The other sinks deeper into its agony.
But something has entered the Milky Way's outer boundaries and Earth rallies its defenses. It forms an Expeditionary Force to
investigate and needs a Stanton to lead it. Mother and daughter must conquer the demons plaguing their psyches if they are to have
any hope of conquering the demons awaiting them.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
On large screens, clicking any image (except book cover images) will display a larger version. Click again to close it. The left and right
arrows will cycle through the pictures carousel style. Clicking the book icon will open the full, scrollable novelette (15 chapters
plus a prologue and epilogue) with imagery. For greater reading convenience, clicking the down arrow icon will permit downloading the
entire PDF (2.26mb) novelette in zip format to the download folder your browser is configured for. And, as before, at no charge.
Some Flash Fiction
The Track
A cold gust blew the rose off her tombstone. Blew them off the other two, the smaller ones. Laying in the snow, they seemed redder. Like blood. My hand came out its
glove to wipe my nose. Cold made it run. The kind of cold that blasted down from the mountain. Three days ago it had run and hadn't reminded me of anything. Hadn't warned
me either. Not out among the pines chopping kindling.
My axe chunked into that wood. Chunk, chunk. The sound echoed off the trees broken only by snorts the cold forced my nose to make. I paused and turned, stopped and stared.
My hand tightened, felt the wood's grain along the haft. Four paw marks marred the snow. A wolf's. The tracks shone in the cold sun. Huge, still. Cold as the air.
I followed them. Why will haunt my eternity. I will stand before the Lord, head bowed. Hear His damnation. I followed them, unaware of now's end.
The track became a puzzle I refused to understand. It dared me to. Four paw marks became two. Ice stabbed my heart and froze my soul. They had turned. Back toward
the cabin. I ran and plowed, plowed and ran. Screamed and warned. Only the door, banged by the wind against the wood house, answered.
A laugh, cold, distant, mocked me. I stood, framed by the doorway. Inside, eternity had arrived. Blood, scattered like rose petals, had already frozen. Pieces. Broken, strewn.
Nothing moved.
The Trail
I never had trouble finding her. She always left a trail. Inside the door, shoes lay where she had kicked them off. Ear rings, necklaces on the table by the sofa. The recliner
didn't escape. Dropped scarves, hurled sweaters, thrown tops. Often I'd pick them off the floor where she just let them fall. She'd greet me at the trail's end, arms outstretched,
her expression a mix of impatience and relief, annoyance and joy. It spoke without a word. "What took you so long?"
Light adored her face. Made it glow and gleam. Emerald eyes that penetrated through me, sparkled and danced. When she laughed, angels smiled. Sometimes dainty crumbs led to the
bedroom. Skirt, nylons, panties, bra. I never thought of her as my mate or my partner. She was my wizard. Oh, how her caress enchanted me. A look could bewitch me. We never made
love. We made magic. Her body melted against mine. Her limbs and hands became unbreakable bonds. Her tongue pierced my soul. Heat that ignited flames never burned or charred.
Around me the room, the world, the universe... vanished.
I can still feel her two arms entwined around mine. They tightened when the doctor entered, x-rays in hand.
I come home now. The key hesitates, slow to turn. I'd give my life to see her shoes, her jewelry, her clothes. Anything to pick up. One more time.
Flash Illustrated - Gabriella
The image blurbs below can be read in any order. Read in sequence, a deeper context emerges.
Almighty
1
I am no atheist, but every day before my very eyes, unspeakable acts of evil occur.
Females everywhere, including women of faith, endure horrific beatings to death. Even children. Lucifer walks among us without any hesitation to take lives. When it happens, the Lords of Christians, Jews, Hindus, and Muslims shrug and look the other way.
Regardless of victims, especially innocents, they do nothing to stop it.
Gabriella
2
Two more Archangels, Michael and Raphael, joined Gabriel. As his daughter moved through her sword thrusts, swings, and blocks, both nodded in approval, impressed by her skills. When finished, she gave a gentle wing flap to land on the summit and strike a power pose.
Gabriel gave his endorsement. "We three must now go to Him and ask for His blessing. So much evil blankets the world. So much is beyond what we can do against it. Gabriella will become the first female Archangel."
Covert
3
Having become Heaven's first female Archangel, Gabriella needed to get away from all the attraction and attention it garnered. Everywhere she went, no one left her alone. Still, the past half hour brought her great pleasure walking through a park no one else did.
Overhead, chattering birds flew by, landing on trees where calls and cries swelled. Gabriella took in a deep breath savoring the crisp, cool breezes brushing by her. Around a curve ahead, she came upon an elderly man wearing a gym suit and sneakers sitting on a bench. A pizza box rested on his lap, emptied by a last piece disappearing into his mouth, chewing happily.
His head turned at my approach, eyes widening. A gurgled sound emerged from a pizza-filled throat. Swallowing hard, he called out. "I know your father. Gabriel. Aren't you Gabriella?" She stopped to nod yes. A smile spread from ear-to-ear as he opened the box Gabriella thought empty revealing two slices sitting inside. An astonishingly delicious aroma rose.
"Come join me. Sit next to me, Gabriella. Have a slice." Folded evenly, they both began chewing. Savoring flavors saturated her taste buds. They turned, smiling at one another. He paused before biting off another piece. "I understand Gabriel, Michael, and Raphael will be crashing a high assembly of evil ghouls meeting. They have prevented you from joining?" Gabriella's shoulders slumped. "They told me I have to first build up my experience."
They continued eating in silence. He finished, raising a question. "Can you disguise yourself as a demon?" "Sure."
He followed up, giving her specific directions to a cave's entrance. "How do you know that?" "Oh. I've learned a lot from your father. Anyway, I'll be on my way. Thanks for your company, Gabriella." He rose to walk away but after a few steps he slowed, opened the box, and another slice emerged. He resumed walking, chewing happily. "
Realization shocked Gabriella. She sprang to her feet taking on a humbled tone. "Lord. Is it you?" He took a few more steps before turning around, biting off another chunk. He closed his eyes chewing away as pleasure radiated from his face. He swallowed, opened his eyes, and gave her a smiling wink. He bit off another mouthful, continuing his walk.
A few days later, fully disguised, Gabriella passed unnoticed among demons, fiends, and goblins. She waited outside an escape route for whatever might emerge.
Await
4
Lucifer's 1st Assassin landed near the Pit hearing the screams and howls of the damned. Wings gone, she continued along a trail through deadened woods, making her way to the Garden of Death.
As leafless trees lessened with each step, a column of flame and smoke accompanied Lucifer. Natalya knelt on one knee watching the Demon Spawner, wandering from one rise to the next, staring out across the Netherworld.
After a bit, Satan bent down to pluck a black rose and extend it. Natalya reached out, grasping the deadened flower. It turned white when her fingers closed.
"When you find, Gabriella, give her this rose. Tell her I await."
Departure
5
Gabriel's daughter maintained a steady pace toward exiting through Paradise's main gate. Gabriella, somewhat surprised, continued to wear divinely inspired gold armaments and weapons that reflected glints and shine. But the Lord's decision had left no doubt His first female Archangel would wear black to disappear among the demons, fiends, and beasts. By the Lord's grace and mercy, Lucifer would find himself in constant danger.
As Gabriella passed through the Entrance, everything turned black. She paused, reversing back two steps, bowing down. Humility enveloped her. "I am your humble Servant, Lord, and will stand before all who oppose You."
Gateway
6
When Lucifer sent his First Assassin to deliver a rose for Gabriella, He decided to build a new Pit entrance and wait. Paradise's first female Archangel had yet to arrive.
Chained
7
Gabriella walked about Pit Central without anyone seeing through her disguised clothing. She made her way to a boutique for a dress needed to enter a lounge with steady traffic of demons, monsters, fiends, ghouls, and witches. Without any guards at the entrance, she passed through and found herself in a derelict, abandoned church with no one about.
In an instant, chains rose from the floor, shackling her wrists. Gabriella realized Lucifer had set a trap. Eternity's tik tock did not mark time's passage. She waited.
Inert
8
Rising consciousness did not extend to Gabriella's eyes, leaving them shut. Limbs remained inert. Even fingers and toes. Fierce determination stuttered her eyelids into narrow slits seeing herself within wispy contrails. A disconnected voice from no direction echoed. "I hate feathers."
Sensations flashed through her, changing paralyzed wings into leather. "And you need horns." Her head rocked as they slammed on, leaving it senseless, dizzying, struggling against close collapse. Rolling laughter filled the room, fading into silence.
After a moment, intensity spoke low, cold words. "You are a fool doing the Lord's work. You come here against me?" His pause lengthened. A screaming shout followed. "He raises not a finger against me!" Lucifer's voice lowered. "Every day before your very eyes, the dead lie scattered across the globe. Crushed, broken, dismembered, savaged, murdered, raped, brutalized, abused. And the One you bow before does nothing."
Silence lengthened, leaving reality hanging in the air. "Mouths agape, all call it evil." Gabriella sensed a breath's intake. "It is my will."
Time
9
When she finished explaining, Gabriel looked away, gaze fading, staring into nothing. His daughter had recovered from her failures against Lucifer. Gabriel had never asked the Lord or understood why He did not involve Himself with Satan's activities. Judgement Day would mark the end of Lucifer but it remained far, far, far in the future.
Meanwhile, the very personification of evil walked the lands committing all manners of atrocities. Gabriella wanted to move through time taking more direct actions to halt the Cloven One. But the other Archangels also could not move through time. Gabriel turned to again lock eyes with his daughter.
"Here in Paradise, time does not exist. The future is a permanent blank, the past is meaningless, the present is constant. If you wish to move through time, Merlin is here in Heaven. But you cannot fly to his home. He ignores visitors who do not arrive unwinged, required to walk an uprising hill to his door. "Go there Gabriella. I will tell him you are on the way."
Gabriella landed on the hill's foot looking up at the winding steps, enjoying the breeze gently stroking her face. Rare anyone in Paradise changed the local weather to rain, snow, or storm. Most everyone left it clear and warm. So did Merlin. She folded her wings, hid them, and began her climb.
Merlin opened the door with a smile, then an arm flourish welcomed her inside. Gabriella marveled and admired his home as he escorted her about pointing out the fascinating things he had designed and installed himself. "This looks like nothing the castle you once lived in."
"Well, I did have to first spend a few centuries in Purgatory but your father was the first who welcomed me to Paradise showing how architecture had evolved beyond all that Camelot stuff. But enough of me. Gabriel did tell me of your coming and I owe him a favor. How can I help you?"
Standing with one arm across his chest and the other cupping his chin, Merlin listened intently. "The other Archangels do nothing on their own, simply waiting for the Lord telling them what to do. I am the first female Archangel. I do not abide the suffering people must endure through Lucifer's evil. Though the Lord does not stop it, if I can move through time, I will destroy his efforts and accomplishments without Satan being able to stop me. He will never know where I am. "Has the Lord ever warned you not to do so?" Merlin asked. For a moment, Gabriella paused. "No. Like Lucifer, He does not interfere. If the opportunity ever presents itself, I will ask Him why." Merlin held up a finger. "One moment."
He turned, walked to a cabinet, opened a drawer, and returned holding a box, opening it for her and gently placing the content on a pillow. "This is a cross I enchanted myself. When you think of a place and time, the cross will transport you instantly."
Faith
10
Confirming her readiness, Gabriella remained before the mirror fingering the cross around her neck. She had spent long months in the future watching and learning. Galactic space behaved just like the Dark Ages or the Wild West. Brigands, rogues, thieves, thugs, murderers roamed the vast hinterlands. As did the Captains of yore lifting their eyescopes, spotting the sails of oncoming pirates, losing their cargos, many their lives. Like today, when reaching the stars, evil had followed and infected the galaxy.
Gabriella needed only a single practice. Anything Lucifer created here, she would cut off whatever extended into the future. Closing her eyes and imagining a when and where, the cross whisked her away.
*****
Matalis paused to absorb his 1st Officer's confirmations. Human behavior did not differ from their ancestral origins. They had slowly grown in Africa then burst out to begin populating the lands of Earth. Spreading across the Solar System, seven generations before had also burst out colonizing the galaxy. Matalis turned back to his 1st. "You double-checked Natalium IV has grown substantially?" His 1st nodded. "Out here on the frontiers of Alpha Canis Majoris, they do so in isolation. They are Christians desiring no interference with their worship."
Matalis smiled. He also did not like interference. They would strip this colony of all its possessions. Anyone trying to object, would be stripped of their lives. Except the women. They would be enjoyed. The com channel on his desk lit up. "Captain, we have an object on our radar apparently out of nowhere closing the distance." "Put it on my screen, Chief. And arm your forward missile tubes." He leaned closer, trying to understand. "Its wings are moving up and down." Its onrush continued. Matalis re-opened the channel, "Chief, launch tube..."
The com link disconnected. Everything went dark. The ship's background engine sounds turned silent. His conference room's doors slammed open showing the hull doors at the corridor's end dissolving. Matalis and his 1st braced for all the air to blow out into space. Breathing continued.
The approaching object became clear as some kind of humanoid. Its flapping wings landed him on the corridor and stepped directly toward them. With a sword in each hand, it paralyzed both into shocked silence. "I am the Archangel, Gabriella. Neither of you will step on Natalium IV and interfere with their worship of the Almighty."
Gabriella turned around leaving, releasing control of the ship. The crew raced to the meeting room where a com screen displayed a continuous loop of what occurred within. Their leaders' heads lay on the table.
Jophia
11
Steps clicking down the stairs to her foyer caused Gabriella to glance in a mirror. Jophia's outfit startled her. Earth's biblical authors had briefly mentioned her as God's Beauty. But she always remained in the background and stayed quiet.
Gabriella turned to face her, assuming a humble stance as an Archangel. Jophia showed a half-smile. "For over 5,000 years, I have not had sex. Lucifer took me and gave me overwhelming pleasures. I had never experienced such sex. Never.
"I am allied to him now and will do whatever he asks. Since the Lord God Almighty does not involve himself in Earthly slaughter and death, He has not said one word or interfered."
Gabriella stood shocked.
Extract
12
A follow up conversation with Jophia revealed what Gabriella had never known. Not far outside Paradise's southern gate, angels would stream into a club known as Dance Skull. On her own, Gabriella dressed down to remain unnoticed as an Archangel, entering through nondescript doors that had no guards or charged fees. Inside, a throbbing dance beat blasted off the walls but without any obvious DJ. People gathered around scattered bar areas but the main dance floor remained packed with gyrating angels mixed among devils, demons, and monstrous beings with inhuman shapes.
Piercing strobes sliced through the dark, illuminating random dancers enveloped in passionate rhythms. From across the swirling dance floor, a bright light briefly sparkled as a door opened. Gabriella's eyes widened at her archenemy.
Unlike anyone else needing to squeeze past others, a path opened before Lucifer's deliberate pace, looking neither left nor right. His gaze steered him toward a strobe-lit, half-nude angel, whose seductive curves twisted within its wings. Satan bent down, his lips mouthing into her ear before taking her by the hand, extracting the angel from surrounding dancers.
As he led her to a quieter, empty area, Gabriella followed. Peeking from around an ornate column, the angel raised her voice above a whisper. "I do not involve myself romantically with females." Scanning her slowly from top to bottom, Lucifer replied in a gentle voice. "I am not a female. I am not a male." His voice now hissed a louder, guttural sound, deepened with twinged echoes. "I am Lucifer!" He threw her to the floor then lifted her by the hips, pushing aside the skirt. Now submissive, the angel made no resistance. A stiffened member emerged penetrating past her short, intense gasp, followed by rhythmic thrusts that filled the angel with sensational pleasures, accompanying sighs, moans, and outcries. Orgasms exploded, leaving the angel near sputtering collapse. Slanted, angled, hard-driven thrusts continued. When finished, Lucifer dropped the angel, walking away from an unmoving mass.
Gabriella did the same. Despite conflicting, warring thoughts and emotions, what she had watched left her in a heated state.
Threat
13
Despite Gabriella having uncovered an unattended church on the outskirts of heaven, overwhelming numbers of people here had long since stopped attending mass. Dressed to go and hunt demons she wanted first a commune with the Lord. When done she rose from the pews and bent down for a closer inspection of what appeared to be a spot of blood in the aisle. As she studied, another dropped. Gabriella looked up, eyes widening to find an angel impaled to the roof.
The sound of fluttering wings landed behind her. She rose prepared to grasp her sword, surprised another angel stood before her. "I am Jophia's best friend. I am Martana and have joined Jophia in her alliance with Lucifer. We have formed a Triumvirate. This is her message. "Do as God, who ignores all that goes on. He does nothing to stop murder, rape, and slaughter. Do not interrupt us or interfere, Archangel."
Gabriella turned away, her back to Martana. Outside, her wings lifted soaring away. Fierce determination swelled.
GoDD
14
Visitors to this gallery have a basic understanding of reality but are about to learn a secret that has not been revealed anywhere else. Ever! The stories and adventures of Gabriella, Heaven's 1st female Archangel, has been turning away from her hopeful and helpful beginning to an increasing frustration with the Lord God Almighty's inattention to the horrors of Earth. Just recently, children at a Texas overnight camp suffered being swept away by a flash flood. Two drowned 7-year old sisters found holding hands as they sank. How is it possible that He, with just a finger, could prevent such things. Throughout our history, victims are often never found, buried by mud and debris left by the flood. Why does He not involve Himself?
The James Webb Space Telescope peers far, far into the past, opening windows to our beginnings, constantly confirming nothing occurs simultaneously. Our unimaginably infinite universe functions via cause and effect. Everything in existence is a result.
Thus the Lord God Almighty is quite often not even in our location. He is somewhere in infinity not holding in His mind a continuously processing reality. Murder, rape, and death are only moments of infinity. And so we see arrive in this scene a G.O.D.D: Guardian of Divinity and Doctrine.
There are many He created to serve as His eyes and ears throughout the universe empowered to allow or prevent. Yes, in our lonely, isolated planet, good things occur alongside the evils we witness every day.
Here, Darmilla learned a fellow GODD had been abducted by Lucifer and his newly formed Triumvirate. They viciously ripped into her body leaving it de-winged and chained. Darmilla had landed on the fortress' roof and quietly descended past joking and laughing guards. When she found her companion, fury balled hands into fists as she spoke in a whispered tone. "Are you in pain?" "No. I am in agony." "Stay still a bit longer before I take you away to heal. First, I must leave everyone's body here without a head."
Flying back to Paradise, leaving the fortress in ruins where nothing moved, Darmilla decided she had to speak with Gabriella.
Gloom
15
Gabriella pushed the church door open, wanting some time for reflection and halted. Despite the day's sunshine, a deep gloom emanated from within. Sounds of movement and shuffling crossed the cavernous interior leading her to close the door gently. She hurried to enter from the other side thinking it might be an ambush waiting for her. It took a moment peering inside to see characters among the pews. One pleaded, "No, no.", then the sound of cloths tearing and ripping followed. Gabriella crept unseen closer to peek around a pew to recognize Lucifer's newest ally, Jophia.
Wings fluttered and flitted of the random, unknown angel, who slowly ceased resisting. Jophia had stripped below the waist to hold the other in position, pressing up between her legs, grinding her pelvis at first gently then intensely rotating and pressing. The angel ceased any objection and succumbed to the pleasures sheering through her body as she became lost by a groin experiencing spasms of ecstasy. Soon sighs, gasps, moans, and grunts escaped her lips.
A churning rage boiled up within Gabriella preparing to charge against the depraved atrocity brought to the House of the Lord. Within moments it dissipated. Images of the wickedness visiting houses of worship on Earth and now here in Paradise filled her imagination. All manner of atrocious decadence occurred in them. The Lord God Almighty did nothing against any of it. Even here! Had eternity brought on cognitive decline?
Panting, burbling, gurgles from the stranger's throat exploded into orgasms followed by two more. Her passionate groin rubbing intensified. As Gabriella listened, her own innermost sexuality awakened from a long comatose state. As an archangel, she had no man and therefore ignored sex. She crept back out with her vagina now radiating a heat that needed cooling.
Counsel
16
Gabriella paced her courtyard, musing, reflecting, wondering why the Lord God Almighty allowed the people of Earth to endure horrific acts. Every night, women went to bed and woke to find someone savaging them, left dead in their own blood. Ordinary people, with no spiritual or religious beliefs, lived hard lives, braced constantly against abuse.
Bright, warm sunshine pushed her out and took a walk, deciding best to do so in her favorite park. She always remembered encountering a simple elderly man sitting on a bench enjoying pizza.
Overhead, chattering birds flew by to their roosts, bursting into song. Flowers gently waved, twisted, and bent, sparkling in the breeze. Without warning, the day disappeared.
Menacing clouds rolled in, rumbling imminent thunder. Over the horizon flames soared skyward, crackling and hissing. A hole erupted right before her, heated flames from the Pit burned and scorched anything touched. Rising within, a huge being poured out. Gabriella's gaze followed it right over her head, recognizing Lucifer staring back. She assumed a defensive pose, shield held steady, sword unshaking. "Do not take one step forward. I will run you through."
Turning his head up, Lucifer roared and shook with laughter. When he stopped, a steel gaze locked onto her. Silence descended like a blanket. A low voice spoke. "The Lord does not stop me. He cannot. The Lord does not interfere with me. He cannot. He does not tell me anything. Because He cannot." Lucifer paused, bending down a bit, leaning forward. His shout bellowed, "Neither will you!", echoing far into the distance.
Lucifer straightened to his full height, eyes cold, no emotion. "The Lord has been here for a long, long time. Humans can no longer depend on His help. He is now feeble, frail, and weak."
Raising fisted arms to the heavens, Lucifer screamed out to the universe, "I am the power." When it faded into the overhead clouds rumbling and growling, Lucifer extended a finger pointing at Gabriella. "Do not dare to move against me. If you do, I will be merciless." With a flap of his wings, he rose and disappeared into the clouds opening for him.
Gabriella stood in place, shocked to the core. The sun reappeared. Birds remained silent.
and Illustrated Flash Fiction
Tarot Read
For a month now, the Knight who headed the palace guard had quietly asked around regarding the town's Tarot Readers. The Queen, secretly addicted to his sex, proved a reliable route for him to become King. She had insinuated herself into the King's graces who rid himself of the current Queen for more beauty. He had also banished her son, the throne's legitimate heir, into exile.
Entering the Caged Crow, where respected advisers had sent him, the man behind the bar, recognizing his position, gave him a welcoming nod. Shaking his head at the waitress' offer of a table, he made his way to the bar's corner free of customers. With a lowered voice, he asked, "Many have told me you know the best Tarot Reader." The man smiled again with a nod. "I don't want to discuss anything but just see what the cards reveal." "She is masterfully connected to the essence of spirits, moods, passions, and emotions. Her name is Sarzana. But take note, she is frank and direct. She is also quite expensive." With her location memorized, the Knight exited.
Standing before a heavy, oak, door, he knocked. It opened without anyone pulling it. Inside, a veiled woman placed her palms together and gave a humble bow. "Follow me, Sir Knight, to where you will sit. Your reading is scheduled." A scant moment after the door closed, he heard footsteps nearing through another door. When it opened, he suppressed a gasp. The beauty walking in surpassed all he had ever seen.
In her closed hands, he heard the rubbing of crystal glass. Placing both to the side, she smiled. "The crystals harmonize me to the spirit world." Smoothly grasping a small lotion bottle, she placed two drops on the top of her hands, then rubbed, feeling a vibrating tremor. Sarzana grasped the waiting deck and began shuffling. She continued, waiting for the Knight.
With sudden realization lost in her appearance, he reached into a pocket and piled coins on the table. She smiled with narrowed eyes fixating within his soul, quickly opting for a spread she had customized. A quick hand positioned the 1st eight cards off the deck.
She sat for long moments, before her eyes rolled up to give him a stare. Out of 78 cards, the Knight of Pentacles had emerged. But when placing her finger above the cards, it floated toward the Two of Swords. "Violence nears."
A pull continued, forcing her finger to land on The Fool. Sarzana took a deep breath. "Sometimes this card laughs. Sometimes it jokes or has fun." Silence swelled. The clock tick-tocked. "We will not discuss your plans and ambitions." Her finger remained. "Though the other cards convey to me, no decisions have been made. This card warns."
Once more, her eyes rolled upward locking onto his. She did not blink. "Heed its warning. Don't be a fool."
Redemption
Sharp, stinging, paralyzing pain snapped me awake. I lifted my head to see a rat's hindquarters jutting out from a hole in my pants. Head buried inside, I felt it's teeth sawing
into my shin. Others strained to dislodge the feeder aside and take their turn. With all the fury I could muster, my fist slammed down crushing the rat's hip. Its forelegs still functioning, it emerged with
useless rear legs twitching and trembling. Blood and viscera dripped from its whiskers. I watched its strained crawl to follow the ones scattering into the dark.
I stood up in the moonlit alley
feeling blood ooze into threadbare socks. Pain chased away sleep's cobwebs. I did not want to look. Still, the wound's continued ache heartened me. Once the rot began to set in, I would feel
nothing. I needed to find another place for sleep but first my leg needed tending.
Emerging onto a side lane, I turned and hobbled toward the village's main road. Beneath my cloth shoes,
wagon-churned mud squished. Cold water seeping in did nothing to ease the now throbbing ache. Around me nothing moved, everyone slept.
I remember the last time I slept in a bed.
My mother roused me in the middle of the night, dragging me away by the arm. My father, standing in the doorway, turned to look over one shoulder, "Out the back. Go! I'll delay them here." I
stared wide-eyed at the sword in his hand.
Still clutching my arm, we ran toward the woods she never allowed me to enter alone but had made my playground. She taught me how to climb
trees and her face glowed with pride when I would wave down to her. Half way there, she stopped to bend down on one knee and hug me. When she pulled away, I never saw her look as fierce.
"Run. Run as fast as you can. Climb a tree, and stay there." Without another word, she turned and sprinted back toward the house. I stood frozen in place. "Mama!" "Run! Run now! Go!" I never
saw her again.
I don't know how long I stayed in that tree. Hunger drives you to many things. Even disobedience. I climbed down walking back home wondering what my punishment
would be. When I reached the village, a few others picked among the ruins. I recognized nothing. Later I learned Mongols had destroyed everything, including my parents.
I ate by following
dogs, fighting them for whatever scraps they found. Luckily, they did not know how to fight with sticks. I turned onto the main road. At this hour, the tavern might still be open. Alcohol would disinfect
my wound. I would exchange any labor they might ask for. Otherwise, I would fight.
I don't know what my parents would think of my life. Beyond my tattered clothing, I had nothing. But I
did live life on my own terms. I took nothing from no one and let no one take from me. Still, in the back of my mind, I never escaped the feeling they would be ashamed of me.
As I neared
the tavern, the sound of galloping horses swelled. Out of the darkness, three horsemen thundered. They pulled short before the tavern, leaping from their saddles, not bothering to hitch them. One
carried a sack. Movement inside made it clear something struggled within. The three burst into the saloon.
I walked past the horses, their foam-flecked sides panted and heaved evidencing
a long, hard ride. Expanded nostrils blasted steam plumes into the chilled night air. Pain stabbed my shin as I stepped onto the porch.
Inside, the riders had cleared one end of patrons. No
one noted my entrance as I slowly made my way to an empty corner. Protests against the intrusion ceased when one rider plunked the sack on the table and dropped the sides to reveal a dragon.
Shaking itself dog-like from snout to tail, a reptilian head did a slow swivel taking in its captors. Clear as a bell, the dragon's voice broke the tomb-like silence. "You will pay a price for this
vile, unspeakable outrage. Even now, my Elder flies to the rescue. When he arrives, all that you see will be burned to the ground. I will soar on the screams of your roasting." "You know full well
that will not happen." retorted the rider. "Capturing you rewards a boon. I demand its fulfillment."
Silence deepened. Not even a cough disturbed it. I and everyone else remained rooted in
place. Seconds lengthened. The dragon stood as if turned to stone. "Name your request." "Mongols camp three days ride from here. They have pillaged, destroyed, raped, and murdered all
before them. I demand your Elder guard our province." "A boon requires a sacrifice. A human sacrifice." "I will fulfill the sacrifice."
His two brethren stared aghast. Shaking their
heads, both moved to restrain him.
"No!"
The strength and timbre of my voice surprised me. It rebounded off the walls. Command quieted the room. Everyone turned to stare.
Never in my life had such clarity and conviction filled my soul.
"Take me."
Genealogy
At last, the box wrapped with great care, opened. I stared long and hard, the sadness of my father's passing suspended. In an instant, I understood the descriptions of my grandmother as euphemisms: original, ahead-of-her-time, daring, bold, unafraid. A self-confident woman, who had never suffered fools well.
Also inside, a book wrapped in cloth. A diary. Grandmother's. One sentence graced its first page. "If you are not going to die for me, you are not going to tell me how to live." The rest of Dad's belongings could wait. The painting and diary had to come home.
A month on and I wonder why my father, though he spoke of her often and with great affection, kept his mother hidden? Did her nudity embarrass him? Was he protective of my innocence? How ironic. The grandmother I never knew is the woman I've become.
Ache
Her desire for children had left a long trail of rejections. Until she saw him. WHen near, passions and lusts raced along her spine down to her nethers, weakening the knees, making her unable to concentrate except for a central focus. She constantly presented subtle hints for him. When making it clear he too wanted a family, marriage became inevitable. Love filled her body that never dipped below the brim.
He too loved his family. Loved her. Worked to house and feed them. Worked hard. Nightfall brought him home exhausted. And on the seventh day he would rest. She had always respected his need to rest, respectful of all he did for them. She no longer could avoid waking him. Desiring him. Aching for him.
Lord of the Apes
Three days earlier, Jane had become lost and encountered a man unlike anyone she had ever met. He never said a word and after a minute disappeard.
***** Same as the archived 'Best of Deviant Art' page, click the button if desired for this story's opening...
*****
Early morning heat had begun to swell. Jane sat against a tree, scanning the river for crocodiles or hippopotami. No urge rose to dive in. Another more compelling reason enveloped her. Until the feelings lost and disconnected stopped, she needed to find that man. Not simply to thank him for saving her life. No, no, no. She needed a man. She wanted him. Jane floated in a void untethered to the man who could anchor her.
A sound tugged her dream-like state. Loud, nearby. Her eyes opened, tingling ears tried to zero in. A grunt. Then another. Something thumped the ground, shook it. Silence followed, quieting everything. Careful, ever so careful, Jane leaned aside, twisting around the tree. Air blasted through a nose, inhaling deep and snorting again. The smell of an animal wafted. Jane sat still, nerves clambered. A face emerged through the foliage, eyes lasered onto hers. It inhaled deep and again snorted out the smell of her. A primal sound rumbled from its chest.
Jane leaped to her feet, only one step into the river. Pumping legs splashed through deepening water. She dove, arms pulling her under before swerving about to see if anything followed. Legs kicking, her head gently broke the surface, eyes widening. On their knuckles, now two gorillas stared back.
Treading water could not continue. Jane knew the way back to the compound but only from this point. Though gorillas cannot swim, she had scant minutes until the current dragged her away deeper into the wilds.
Fear and despair gripped her as another gorilla appeared. A menacing knuckle-walk led to the river's edge. Bending low, its gaze remained fixed while one cupped hand dipped into the water, lifting to drink. When done, it straightened and joined the other two. Did they wait for her to swim ashore, or watch her drown? Jane's legs slowed and stiffened.
From the interior canopy, alternative flashes of light and shadow glinted through the trees. Her heart leaped. Re-energized nerves hummed and vibrated. He released the vine and sailed through the air, landing almost in silence. His every stride brought him closer, eyes focused into hers. Jane swam closer, stopping once her feet stood on the bottom.
With his arrival, the apes turned their attention elsewhere. One also cupped his hand to drink. Another turned to stare downstream. The third sat on its haunches, watching the ground for scurrying insects, snatching and popping them into its mouth.
The man stood regal and strong. Power radiated across the intervening distance. Jane pored over him from head to toe with a paused moment on the loin cloth covering him. Heat surged and blazed within her. Lust raised its head. She ached and craved to have him. She stepped closer, rising out of the water. Jane in turn, tried to radiate her desires.
She leaned on one leg, angling her hips. Slowly, very slowly, her shoulders shifted back to thrust her chest outward, the soaked dress revealed the nudity beneath. Eyelids narrowed, her eyes blazed desire, burning bright the heat within. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Time passed.
He stood still and silent. Stoned scorn formed his face. Unblinking eyes lasered into hers, penetrating her soul. He looked at nothing she had offered for view. And nowhere else. Moments mounted.
Jane fought back the awkwardness threatening to overwhelm. Her mind raced, searching for a way to join herself to him. "Last time we met, I asked who you are. Who are you?" No response. The gorillas remained distracted.
She searched for something, anything. Desperation knocked against her. Perhaps he spoke no English. Maybe she could communicate in his language. Memory of the sounds he made had stayed with her constantly. She barked.
The apes sprang onto their knuckles. Hair bristling, they moved about in stiff steps, stealing angry looks at her. One stomped the ground. Another stood, pounding his chest. They all growled and rumbled, as if daring her to come ashore. Her eyes became fearful saucers. One hand snapped around her mouth, the free arm wrapped across her chest. He remained calm and quiet, staring at her before looking away toward the frenzied apes. His bark echoed off the jungle. One by one, the gorillas raced toward the interior, plants and bushes closing behind them. Seconds later, they disappeared.
He looked again at Jane, derision plain on his face. With a turned back, the jungle seemed to bow and await his return. A short distance away, he leaped to grab a vine, climbing hand over hand ever upward. He swung to another and then another. Treetops closed around him. Seconds later, he too disappeared.
Jane stepped out of the river. Defeat and disappointment washed over her. She felt as if falling through an empty void, leaving her again lost.
***** I have absolute respect and admiration for Edgar Rice Burroughs. Though I agree to where he destined Tarzan and Jane, I am not he. I will take a different route.
Jane
Jane sat against a tree, listening to the gentle pond-waves lapping along the shoreline. A low-horizon moon's radiant glow illuminated everything. Though she remained quiet, the surrounding jungle did not. Distant roars, chattering insects, flapping wings, monkey howls, passing hooves. Sounds made her calm and brought peace. Only danger silenced it.
Eyes closed, she thought of Musamba, who oversaw the domestic side of her uncle's estate. Jane smiled. Musamba's thoughts and insights pecked at her. Constantly. Though well-sized, earlier in the week Jane had sat within her one-room hut. She found herself unable to shut out thoughts that filled her with one man. Steps sounded on her porch and a shadow crossed the entrance. Pulled out of her pensive, foggy state, Musamba stood in the entrance, holding a tray with two lidded pots on it. "May I come in, Lady Jane?" "Of course, Musamba, welcome."
At the kitchen counter, Musamba pulled out two plates. From one she ladled a brown sauce of okra and sugar beans mixed with chunks of mutton and goat meat. From the other, she rolled sadza into balls, causing the maize cornmeal to resemble scooped ice cream. Placing four in each plate, the two sat down, gripping the sadza balls with their hands to dip into sauce before biting in. Both ate quietly while Jane's expressions revealed how delicious she found the well-seasoned sadza.
Musamba motioned for Jane to remain seated while she returned the plates to the sink. She finished washing everything and when returning to sit opposite Jane, her voice gently lowered. "What is it that burdens you, Lady Jane?"
Jane sat as if turned to stone. Expressionless, for a moment her eyes reflected nothing. She set about locking away her emotions and thoughts, sat as if caged. Tears began to well. An internal jolt shook her. The dam burst. Hands flew to her face, muffling cries and whimpers. Her trembling body poured everything out. Musamba rose to hold her shoulders and hug her close. When they parted, she softly wiped Jane's eyes. "There is a hole in my life and in my soul, Musamba. I have never dealt with such a thing. I have always felt happy and content, and gave others all I could. I encountered a man I want. A man that I need. Only he can fill the hole that leaves me floating adrift." Jane shook her head hard with a voice spilling pain. "He gives me nothing. I don't need this, Musamba."
Musamba bent down to cup Jane's face. Her thumbs with a feather-like touch, wiped the tears. She let a smile emerge. "Come with me, Lady Jane. Come."
Jane found herself walking along an almost invisible trail. Musamba listened as Jane told her of the two encounters with him. "From the moment I saw him, my heart pounded excitement into me." Jane stopped. Frustration dropped her arms. "I still don't know who he is. He never told me his name."
Musamba smiled. Only her eyes moved, looking deep into Jane's, as if pausing to watch Jane's reaction. "His name is Tarzan." Musamba continued walking, Jane stood frozen in place, eyes widened. She ran to catch up but before speaking, Musamba put a finger up to shush her. "We're almost there."
Thick jungle opened to a beautiful pond. Large and wide. Birds above it swerved and dove chasing one another. Sunshine sparkled dancing fairies across it. The smell of fresh water permeated everything. Astonishment painted Jane's smile, broad and bright. She turned toward Musamba. "Is this your special place?"
Musamba stood silent looking back. After a few moments, her eyes shone glints as a wide grin emerged. "This is Tarzan's special place." She watched Jane's grin grow as wide. "I fell upon it one day and as I stood at the waterline, a man rose and emerged right in front of me. Panic froze me in place, especially when I saw the huge knife hanging from his waist. Out here alone, I thought it was all over. Fear must have radiated from my face, but his expression remained blank. All the while, his steely eyes watched me. Strolling past, he took a few steps more before turning his back and disappearing into the jungle."
Musamba turned back to look across the water. Silence ticked by. "Afterward, I learned he is Lord of the Apes. Indeed, apes are his family. They often accompany him. In every direction, he rules over the lands, protecting everything within. No one can enter with bad intentions." Musamba paused. "I encountered him here a few times, both day and night. He is quite the swimmer. And always came alone. We never spoke." A short laugh escaped her. "I had a husband then. Still do. I did, however, imagine something might occur between us."
She turned away walking back home, stopping after a few steps to look back. "Stay here. He might turn up. You are a force, Lady Jane. Determination fuels your power. Your intelligence runs deep. As do your ambitions. But never forget. You're a woman. Be a woman. Not a man. Do not challenge him."
Days had passed since and she had caught no sign of Tarzan. Tarzan. She loved the name. Jane rose, stretched, and walked into the water, leaping up to plunge and dive beneath. She surfaced and rolled over. Long, leisurely back strokes carried her the length before turning again to swim across. She dove and swam toward the shore, rising and walking out. Pushing drenched hair from her face, she froze in place. Tarzan stood at the water's edge. She snapped her head down, eyes turned away. A spurt of fear flashed through her as peripheral vision spotted a leopard gazing behind. She refused to move a muscle, certain Tarzan would allow her no danger. She held a pose of respectful submission.
*****
Tarzan lay on his back in a tree, slowly chewing, ears alert to the jungle's sounds. Night had fallen and he had bent branches and leaves high up into a sleeping nest. He swallowed, then reached out to pluck a few more atanga and resumed chewing. His eyes would close with their delicious taste flavoring his mouth.
He sat up, twisting his head as the sound of a deep plunge into water reached him. Bright moonlight allowed him to clamber out along a branch before leaping to grab a vine. He flew downward, hurtling toward the ground then rising to the next vine. Realization grew the sound had come from his familiar pond. He stepped onto a passing tree, scurrying and jumping along branches until his approach fell silent. Peeking through leaves, he spied the swimmer holding a laggard pace. Despite having kept her from careless danger, he recalled her brash behavior. Why had she come here?
Tarzan's nose wrinkled and sniffed. He looked below to spot a leopard creeping through the underbrush where it could remain hidden right up to the waterline. Ears flattened, its gaze lasered on the swimmer, inching closer and closer.
Tarzan stepped off the branch, landing hard on the ground just behind the leopard. Startled, it took off, dashing through the underbrush, frightened away. He would remain nearby in case it returned. A silent Tarzan stepped through the foliage, as the swimmer stood up in shallow water, rivulets washing off her. As she pushed drenched hair from her face, her gaze fell upon Tarzan. All movement turned to stone, as her eyes spun away and assumed a bowed head. Behind her, the leopard emerged across the pond. It stared for a few moments before bending to drink. With Tarzan focused on its presence, the leopard finished and slinked away. Tarzan's eyes swiveled back to the swimmer.
She remained unmoving, radiating respect. Tarzan continued staring at her until a burst of light exploded in his mind. He looked down at himself, looked back at her, looked back at himself. He had always thought of himself as part of his family. He had always appreciated its females. He stared again at the swimmer. He lifted an arm and ran his fingers along its length. Understanding shook him to the core. He was like the swimmer, not like his family. It had never occurred to him. Like the swimmer, he had no fur.
Before his eyes, the world crumbled and disintegrated. Instantly, it reformed with greater clarity. His eyes widened and stared at what stood before him. Magnificent beauty blasted him, pounded him, awakened him. Eyes narrowed, focused on her, one word escaped his lips. "Woman."
For the briefest moment, Jane glanced at him, but again shifted her eyes away, freezing the vision of utter astonishment expressing itself. Tarzan spun around and dashed into the forest.
Toliman
Queen Suriya entered the room and it erupted. "Aroo! Aroo! Aroo!" Scanning all, she let out a slight smile. At the outset she had declared where she would lead them, but they had started the chant.
"General Thent, I will descend to this planet only in the company of my Droid guard. Mine will be the first human steps taken and will broadcast a message to the entire constellation." "My Highness, I cannot allow you on a planet without a security blanket. We are not yet certain it has no dangers."
For a moment Suriya remained still then turned to the window surveying the planet below. 300,000 years ago the human race had emerged from Africa and spread everywhere. Regions of centered authority rose to direct history's flow: Egypt, Athens, Sparta, Rome. Though the Spartans came to understand freedom made life possible, humanity's immaturity took civilization down the wrong path. Sparta ruled their own people, ruled others, imposed laws and regulations, restricted or banned what could be done. Sovereign nations followed, leading themselves to form all manners of government to rule and impose. 3,000 years later, the lasting influence led humanity to reach Proxima Centauri.
Earlier, unmanned ships and drones had been sent to explore our nearest constellation 4.2 light years away. Everyone expected it would take 100 years to travel the distance. We passed the explorers in mid-flight by having first discovered fusion which then gave us the power to bend space time.
Four hundred years ago, the first colonialists to Proxima Centauri, brought with them the same history: rule and impose. Suriya turned back to the room, her eyes scanning, noting all were armed. Her gaze returned to the General, wondering if he already began to foment a takeover to rule and impose. She thought about fingering her light saber but everyone knew her skills wielding it. Boarding an enemy ship thought defeated, a remnant burst upon them to exact revenge. Before any beams or projectiles, she had sliced through the six unable to stop her, the result of her father's long months of training.
"Congratulations General Thent, for having led my army in conquering this constellation." Her arm rose to point. "But if you raise another objection, Commander Narsan will immediately relieve you of any further responsibilities."
"My Queen. I obey as you command."
Dominus Prime
The cockpit's window rising, her Droid bodyguard declared, "My Queen, we are landed." She stepped away, taking deep breaths, refreshed by the air's purity. Technicians had helped her find and select this open expanse. Here, she would build her family's estate and administration.
Within the constellation of Centaurus, Toliman, one of Proxima Centauri's three stars, casted a low glow that could not shine brightly. Her great-great grandfather arriving with the first colonialists, began building the trade empire with Earth. Toliman, because of its excessive x-ray emissions, had been left alone but her great-grandfather quietly discovered a planet that always remained in synchronous orbit behind a larger planet blocking the x-rays. Her great-grandfather landed surreptitiously, confirming the planet stood in full foliage feeding oxygen to the atmosphere. He returned to dominate trade between Earth and Proxima Centauri. Standing on her family's shoulders, she activated the message drone broadcasting to Centaurus.
"I am Queen Suriya. My father used the family's wealth amassed by my grandparents to secretly create the most powerful military in Proxima Centauri. We have crushed our enemies and I am the first human on Toliman's planet where I can breathe its pure air. I now claim this world as its Queen. Welcome all who wish to be free and live in peace. Our home will henceforth be known as Dominus Prime." She clenched her fists and looked toward the heavens. "Aroooo!"
"Thugs, robbers, scammers, murderers, rapists, criminals of every type and sort will never be allowed here. All who wish to come must first declare their faith to the God they worship, that they may remain at peace with their fellow citizens. There will be no government here. There will be no one to pass laws and regulations. No one will be allowed to judge us. No roads will be built. The atmosphere will be the only transportation we need. Those who mate for the next generation will be genetically scanned to insure their code does not permit antagonism and abuse against the innocent. In the womb, their DNA will be altered and corrected. But our males will remain always ready and able to rise and defend this world. Those who immigrate here will also be scanned and not permitted to become criminals. Anyone committing abuse or violence to anyone else will be terminated on the spot. Unlike Earth, we will not be wringing our hands for years deciding what to do with such low-lifes. We will become the standard for others to colonize planets and remain at peace. We must be at the ready for those founded by dictators and tyrants. We will not be ruled. We will not be imposed. We will not be afraid. We will not be intimidated. We will be Spartans knowing freedom allows life to be lived." Suriya clenched her fists again and gazed toward the heavens. "Aroooooo!"
Foreshadowed
I grieve and ache. No day passes that does not blister my heart and shred my soul. Every moment devours my being
but not my mind. That remains sharp, vivid, unforgetting. A constant reminder.
Excitement for my best friend's birthday
filled me that night. I had even bought a new dress and put on my lucky red hat. After all, the night might bring 'him' to me.
My bestie's birthday and future husband on the same night? Yeah. Lucky hats can do that.
I had never reflected much on
fate. Nothing about my life touched it. Born, raised, school, graduation, career. My future stood as certain as my past. Him,
marriage, family, with retirement and grandchildren inevitable but far in the distance.
We ate, we drank, we danced, then
drank some more. And at the table next to ours, a man arrived to take a seat. I stared and refused to believe it might be 'him'.
He wore a red hat. We giggled and whispered, our fiercely hushed tones causing us to giggle harder. When he looked at me and gave
a broad, gleaming smile, the air left my lungs.
His eyes hinted of mystery, secrecy, daring, and yes, a tinge of danger.
Laughing, my girlfriend snatched the hat off my head, gave a goofy pose, and we snapped pictures, her last moment frozen forever
in our phones.
I remember sitting, eyes fixed on my hat, not comprehending the next moment. Her head exploded, splattering
us with brains and gore. In the moment's silence and shocked disbelief, another shot crashed through the window overlooking the
street outside. My future husband slammed face first onto the table, the back of his head missing. Pandemonium erupted. Screaming,
shouting patrons dashed out. Others ducked beneath tables, crying, frantically dialing police. I stared at my friend, sunk into
her chair, arms hanging lifeless. Her goofy expression now a hideous mess. My mouth opened and screamed but I didn't hear it.
Later, police identified the other victim as a member of the underworld with a penchant for red hats. Everything indicated a
professional hit. The killer, probably brought in from out of town and told the target would be wearing a red hat, shot both
leaving nothing to chance.
That phone sits in a drawer. I've never looked at the photo it contains. I don't wear hats,
I don't have a husband, and I don't have any more luck.
TheXInnkeeper
Bedlam erupted. I bolted upright, sleep's cobwebs gone. A thunderous crash against my Inn's wall below shook
the building. Feet shuffled as wooden benches and stools splintered and shattered. Fabric ripped and body thuds forced grunts and
groans. And all the while a growl - savage, primordial - filled the air.
My head snapped toward my wife who could sleep
next to marching musicians and now through this. A part of me marveled at her comatose state, another wanted to protect my life's
work, another wanted to protect my life, paralyzing me in place. Crash/thud. Fine plaster dust floated down from the ceiling. I
rose toward a table where my trembling hand refused to light the lamp. Boom/smash. Paint chips cracked off the walls.
The bravest thing I ever did in my life was to step down those stairs. My still shivering hand infected my entire body as it
pushed the door open.
A horned thing, in the shape of a woman, stared back at me. Two winged creatures began where her
hands ended, one broken and crushed, the other made gurgling sounds then stilled. The female thing's mouth opened. A voice deeper
than the Pit that spawned it bellowed, "Get out."
Behind me the door slammed shut when I raced up the stairs. I left the
lamp on and sat in bed, eyes wide open, ears on full alert, lungs barely breathing. Beside me, my wife's snoring paused for a
grunt before resuming.
Pale sunlight peeked through the curtains when she woke rubbing her eyes. She smiled at me.
"Couldn't sleep again, darling? Nightmares?"
What could I say? I barely believed it myself. She put on a robe and descended
the stairs with me leading the way. I did not know what to expect when I opened that door. Maybe I had dreamt everything. Maybe.
As I entered, the Inn appeared neat and tidy. No broken tables or benches, no blood stains, nothing. I stood staring
wide-eyed, unmoving, questioning reality. My wife stepped past me, angling for the kitchen. "Still asleep, dear? I'll start the
coff...oh look."
She stooped, turning around with a huge white feather twirling in her hand. "Have you ever seen a bird
big enough for this feather?"
Scarlet Huntsman
Mykin stood without overwhelming shock. His horse had raced away avoiding capture by the brutes who put his town to the sword. After a while, whistling across the farm
lands, Mykin heard it coming through the burnt stalks. Even as he saddled it, a saddened spirit and a hardening heart warred within. As he led away, it snorted and pulled on the reins forcing a stop.
He sensed its alarm and peered into the gloom.
There! Low to the ground, something moved. Two orbs glowed in the dark, flames danced in its eyes. Slow, cautious steps brought it
closer, revealing a huge wolf. Mykin scanned head to tail. Perhaps a demon or Lycan hid within. Had it strayed from its pack?
Hours earlier far in the woods, Mykin had run hard, closing the
gap to a fleeing deer, his arrow deep in its chest. Without warning, the animal collapsed, crashing to the ground, dead before rolling to a stop. He halted, breathing deep, looking around for anything
nearby. He knelt and his knife began cutting away meat, filling a pouch. Howls arose from afar, closing with each passing minute. He cut faster, turning attention to a shoulder then a hind quarter
followed by slicing away a leg as a wolf pack burst from the treeline. With an extra effort, a foreleg came off and he stood throwing one behind the pack and the other off to the side. Snarls and
growls filled the air as they fought one another for severed legs. Stuffing the last cuts into the pouch securing food before hunting again, he stood, forcing a brisk pace back home. Unfortunately,
he had gone too far away. As he neared, screams reached his ears. In the distance, his horse raced away in another direction. Mykin ran. Ran again, ran hard.
Entering the tiny village, silence
blasted his ears. Bodies lay in the open. Moving home to home, more lay inside, many unrecognizable. Men, fathers, boys, old women, bent, twisted, and deformed wore blank stares. Everywhere
his gaze fell, no wives or daughters lay dead. They were gone.
Back home, Mykin banished the emotions trying to rise and break him. Stone became his expression. Opening a cabinet,
clothing unworn for years hung from his body once again then lit fires in his home. Mykin's thoughts refocused on the wolf standing as still as he. No demon emerged. He whistled at it, causing eyes
to widen, staring, attentive, alert, waiting.
Settling into the saddle, a pull of the reins led his horse to the road heading out of the village. He gave another whistle. Alongside, the wolf trotted
out just ahead, ears pointed forward, alert for what might be in wait. Across the kingdom, whispered voices still spoke his name. Some said massacre. Others used annihilate. The Scarlet Huntsman
did not track animals. He destroyed killers.
Vixen
Farmers and townsfolks had begun suffering incredible horrors including available meat becoming less and less. Finally, with recognizable tracks discovered, the local Baron sent a representative far to the north where Vikings settled. Among the shield maidens, one had become a legend known as a vixen maiden.
It did take a bit, but when she arrived, many gasped and marveled. No one could distinguish whether she had more beauty or the strength of a warrior. Taken to a kill site, tracks shown revealed she hunted a wolf beast. Unlike werewolves and Lycanthropes, wolf beasts could not take human forms. Neither as intelligent but they were very savage, powerful, and brutal. And they hibernated between meals for short periods. During the day, she looked for its lair, and at night nestled in a tree listening for movement.
Four days later, she heard it. Keeping a good distance behind trees, she crept secretively not alerting the beast. In its grasp, a torn off human leg left a trail of blood drops, still wearing a sock. Coming upon a rocky hill, it passed through hanging ivy branches into its interior. Three turns and curves the pathway opened to where a ruined temple once stood. Small, low flames still provided illumination.
With a grunt, the beast sat atop an overturned altar. A reeking stench of decay and waste rose from bones and skulls all about. It bit into the thigh, tearing off a chunk of meat. Chewing and slurping made noise. Placing one silent foot before another, stealth brought her behind the oblivious beast. About to take another bite, she jumped in front and plunged sword deep into its chest.
Totally surprised, the beast at first stared blinking. Then its arms, legs, and claws flaired about as approaching death sank it to a horizontal. With efforting strength, her sword plummeted deeper, severing its heart. A final grunt and it no longer moved.
Yes, she would receive a substantial reward to keep her in wealth, but she threw her head back and filled the space with her Shield Vixen howl.
Paradise
This is Gabriella posing before the Gate to Paradise. More on her in a moment.
Paradise is not how you imagine it. No clouds or wispy contrails. No people in long, shapeless robes floating about, gazing upwards,
singing in chorus, playing harps. In fact, if you ask an angel if they can play the harp, they just laugh.
Paradise looks very much like here: towns, cities, roads, trees, houses, apartments, stores, neighborhoods. You have good neighbors
and not so good neighbors. It's just that nothing bad ever happens there.
No one needs to drive. In Paradise you can be anywhere you want in an instant. But often just for fun people conjure up all kinds of
cars and head out for a spin. As you can imagine, they drive at breakneck speeds. Horrific pileups happen all the time. But everybody
walks away laughing. As I said, nothing bad happens in Paradise.
Which brings us to Gabriella, who is the daughter of the Archangel Gabriel, guardian of the gates to Paradise. Wait a minute, you
say. Archangels have children? Are they having sex? Yeah and they are, but that's another story.
So what do you do with eternity before you and nothing bad ever happens? Well, the latest craze is dressing up and pretending to be
badasses. Hold on now. You mean the people in Paradise are spending their time cosplaying?! Yup. Like Gabriella here. She doesn't
normally dress like this. But in her case, it's not much of a pretense. She really is a badass, as many a knucklehead who tried to
sneak into Paradise has found out the hard way.
What does the Big Guy think of all this? He loves it! After all, besides Lucifer, He's the ultimate badass. And the Seraphim along
with the Cherubs are hard at it trying to get Him to dress the part.
How do I know all this? Well, as you might have already guessed, that's another story 😊
Solitaire
In May of 2021, I posted the titled "Paradise", which detailed the cosplay fad raging across Heaven. Many wondered what they did when not in costume. Well, nothing. Read on.
The woman playing cards is 27,384 years old. More accurately, that's how much time has passed since she died. But in Paradise, where everyone faces eternity, time passes a little differently.
Her home has no walls. After all, people can pop in and out all the time. But if you ask her when she last had a visitor, she would say yesterday. "Yesterday" was 643 days ago. And since bad people
don't exist in Paradise, why have walls? Indeed, when she first arrived she took great delight in decorating the place. She hung pictures, painted rooms, added a garden. But after 2,000 years it
became boring. How many times can you rearrange the furniture? That spiral staircase is all that remains of the house. A few more centuries and it too will be gone.
She has no kitchen. No
one gets hungry. Often though, friends and family get together with complete strangers, conjure up a restaurant of whatever specialty, send requests for waiters and waitresses, which brings no
shortage of volunteers, and have a great time swapping stories of their days on Earth. And as you can imagine, the food and service is impeccable. More remarkably, the eating plays out over
months and dessert can last for weeks.
So I'm sure you can imagine 1,000 things you would love to do in Paradise. But what do you do after doing each of them 1,000 times? Play solitaire?
