---

---

Quaraun The Insane:
Volume 3 
(usually - I keep renumbering these)
BoomFuzzy
Chapter 1
King Gwallmaiic &
The Sacred Pink JellyFish

BoomFuzzy
Chapter 1
King Gwallmaiic & The Sacred Pink JellyFish

---

By Wendy C Allen

f you are here looking for aliens, ufos, demons, cryptids, haunted cars, curses, Etiole, the wild man of old orchard beach, the goldeneagle car, the white monkey, or any of that other weird bullshit, you want this video:

...and after that video, you want these ones:

@eelkat #etiole #homelesspeople #homelessness #homelessinmaine #homeless #oldorchardbeach #maine #forest #leanto #homelesslivesmatter #homelessman #den #hermit #mainehermit #mainemountainman #mountainmen #mainelife #mainelifestyle #mainehomeless #homelesscommunity #homelesscrisis #homelessveteran #homelessveteranawareness #homelessawareness #homelesselder #homelesselderly ♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author

@eelkat 1964 #Dodge 330 that people call "Goldeneagle" or "world's most haunted car" #maine #artcar #volvo #antiquecars ♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author

Wendy Christine Allen, 2019, able to sit up in a chair for the first time in years, and able to raise up my arm and wiggle fingers. This was when I started playing Witcher 3 on Twitch as part of my physical therapy to regain finger movement. Playing Witcher 3 daily from 2016 to 2019, is how I regained the use of my thumb and two for fingers on my right hand... it is also why I stopped playing Witcher 3 in 2019, once I had strengthen my two forefingers enough to start typing again. Wendy Christine Allen, Old Orchard Beach's Autistic Author, Artist, Illustrator, & Art Car Designer Counting Down to the September 23, 2028 50th Anniversary of my first published book (September 23, 1978) If you are here looking for The Twighlight Manor series, The Crystonite Wars series, The Wild Years series, The White Rock Asylum for the Criminally Insane series, The Twisted Tales series, the Captured By a MerMan series, The Space Dock 13 series, The Kats of Planet Ptarmagin series, the stories about Miss Citten the Eel-Kat, or the stories about Etiole... ALL of those series were combined and consolidated into The Adventures of Quaraun the Insane Pink Necromancer series in 2014, so ALL the different series, are now under one series title. List of the published titles still in print: The Index of over three thousand stories in The Pink Necromancer series What the series is about, for those new here: The introduction to The Pink Necromancer Series.

If you want some stories to get you started in The Pink Necromancer series, reading these first will give you a good introduction to the 3 main characters: BoomFuzzy's Chowder Dilemma If your ass ain’t freezing or your brains ain’t scrambled, you’re ain’t really trying A Very Important Clump of Grass The Washer Woman & The Fae Absinthe Slushies: An Ode to Frozen Green Fairy Wine Bone Dice Excited For The New Baby Zwodder: A Drowsy Stupid State of Mind Pink Sheep, Cheesy Burritos, and The Grim Reality of Zombies Open Grave The Phooka's Dragon School The Moon Goddess Laughs From The Rooftops The Jar of Pickled Toes The Book Burning Maggots, a You Can't Spell Hatred Without Red Hats A Day In The Life of a Bumbling Necromancer The Three-Seventeen Pee Expedition

My Elves Are JellyFish...and I asked Google AI and ChatGPT 5.6 what they thought of this.

As requested, my daily writing prompt series is now available print paperback editions on Amazon.

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.1: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.2: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.3: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.4: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.5: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

There are 20 volumes of this writing prompt series currently planned and in varying stages of finishing, hopefully all 20 will be published by the end of 2026. I likely will do a 2nd series of writing prompt books in 2027.

Coming soon (Nov/Dec 2026)... patterns for my slow stitched embroidery:

The first of the Visual Novels/Video Games for The Adventures of Quaraun the Inane/The Pink Necromancer series is published and available on Itch.io, there are 3 more planned for release in 2026, 6 more planned for release in 2027, and the big 60-hour 80k word 150 page one (Quaraun Goes To the Fair) is planned for a 2028 release.

There is a Pink Necromancer card game and a Pink Necromancer board game, as well as a Pink Necromancer table top RPG supliment for Dungeons and Dragons, all in the works, and to be released over the next couple of years as well.

I shouldn't have to say this, but people keep contacting me, so apparently I do:

• No, I do not believe in aliens. Stop contacting me to ask for alien information. If you believe in aliens, I think you are insane, retarded, or both.

• No, my car is not haunted. I've debunked that rumour many times now. . Stop contacting me to ask for haunted car information. If you believe in haunted cars, I think you are insane, retarded, or both.

• No, I am not connected to Stephen King. I didn't even know who he was until you idiots started contacting me asking about him. I had to look him up on Google to find out what you were even talking about! If you have questions about Stephen King, go contact him and ask him. I'm not him. I don't know him. I know nothing about him. I've never read one of his books. I've never seen one of his movies. I can't figure out why you people are even coming to me to ask about him in the first place!

1. If someone told you I believe in aliens, if someone told you my car was haunted, if someone told you I was connected to Stephen King, you NEED to contact the FBI agent in charge of my son's murder investigation and TELL HIM WHO it was who told ou, exactly WHAT it was they said, HOW they contacted you, WHERE they contacted you... because it is a KNOWN FACT that my son's murderer is the one who started all these slanderous alien, haunted car, Stephen King rumours, and the FBI is trying to catch her.

If you have any information about my son’s murderer, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.

Do you know who this woman is?

On August 8, 2013 she drove a backhoe over my house. On November 14, 2013 she arrived at Southern Maine Community College and crippled me with a golf club and murdered my son. One June 24, 2016, days after my first attempts to walk again, she attacked me with a shopping cart at Scarborough, Walmart, reinjuring the Nov 14, 2013 injury.

She crippled me when I was 8 months pregnant, a woman with a golf club, severed my spine and bashed my baby's head in, I spent 9 years relearning to walk, and the FBI is 13 years into the murder investigation and not yet id-ed the attacker who crippled me and killed my baby, both violently with a golf club.

Complete details of EVERYTHING she did is on this page here.

The golf club woman who called herself Clair as she looked November 14, 2013. Her hair is a weird chin leangth pageboy (very Medival style cut) platinum blonde with wide brown/black dyed stripes in it (like a reverse of Lily Munster, but the stripes are several, almost like a zebra). I am 5'6" and she was a LOT taller then me, like closer to the height of a man; she had thin lips like a man, and large nose like a man... she COULD have been a man disguised as a woman, given the ease with which she severed my spine....she's is a LOT stronger then is typical for a woman). She was wearing a chambre blue denim "blazer jacket over shirt" and a button up mens shirt (possibly flannel) and blue jeans. The bulk of her yelling was focused on accusing me of being transgender, even while ripping my baby out of my 8 month pregnant belly and bashing his head in with a golf club.

The Claire woman as she looked during her shoping cart attack at Scarborough WalMart June 2016, the attack with left me paralyzed and in a wheelchair. Her hair was dyed dark red, and she drove away in a gold Volvo 240 Station Wagon of a late 1980s/early1990s model, with a "458" on the lisnce plate.... If you have any information about the woman who crippled me with a golf club, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.

@eelkat part 9 of 10 #dogwalk around the block (Maine st, Elm st, South street, Bradbury st) #Biddeford #Maine #night #fbiinvestigation #truecrimetiktok ♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author

If you have any information about the woman who crippled me with a golf club, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.

Good god! We just found out about yet another slanderous rumour this woman has been spreading? When does it end? How many more of these things are out there?

Video explains what else she's done ...

If you have any information about the woman who crippled me with a golf club, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.

If you encounter anyone claiming my car is haunted, demon possessed, or somehow connected to Stephen King please give the information of who, when, where/location to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office. @eelkat part 7 of 10 #dogwalk around the block (Maine st, Elm st, St Mary's, Dunkin, South street, Bradbury st) #Biddeford #Maine #night #plannedparenthood ♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author If you encounter anyone claiming I believe in aliens or was an alien abducttee, please give the information of who, when, where/location to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.

@eelkat part 4 of 10 #dogwalk around the block (Maine st, Elm st, St Mary's, Dunkin, South street, Bradbury st) #Biddeford #Maine #night #library ♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author If you know who drove this backhoe over my house at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine 04064-1520 on August 8, 2013 please give the information of who it is to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office. If you know who drove this backhoe over my house at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine 04064-1520 on August 8, 2013 please give the information of who it is to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.

I am sick and tired of people not giving a shit that my son was murdered!

I am sick and tired of jackasses making up rumours and lies about me and my car, calling me an alien abductee and my car haunted, just to try to cover up my son's murder!

---

BoomFuzzy
Chapter 1
King Gwallmaiic & The Sacred Pink JellyFish

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

BoomFuzzy
Chapter 1
King Gwallmaiic & The Sacred Pink JellyFish

~o0o~

Seven decades ago, the royal family of the Moon Elves was attacked by Thullids, with the King, his sister-in-law, and her infant son all becoming infested by a parasite that burrows into the brain, slowly eating it, and eventually taking control of the Elf's body. When the king's brother murders discovers his wife and son are dead bodies animated by the Jellyfish living in their brains, he murders his wife then turns on his son. The king rescues the infant and sends him away to live with a sacred order of wizard-priests known as the Di'Jinn.

Meanwhile terror is spreading across the globe as the Necromancer King Gwallmaiic and his army of Phookas, Dark Elves, and Liches, march across the world slaughtering every Elf in their path, only to suddenly vanish into the deserts of the Di'Jinn and not be seen for nearly a century.

Now 70 years have passed and the young prince of the Moon Elves is grown up and has returned to the village, wearing the neon pink robes of a Thullid priest. While the Moon Elves are up in arms over the many laws their prodigal crown prince is breaking, a mysterious gingerbread house falls out of the sky and with it a half-Elf named BoomFuzzy who literally has all but one Moon Elf eating out of his hands.

When the prince tells the others, it's not a gingerbread house, but a monstrous flesh-eating castle made of bones, they lock him in a tower calling him insane.

Blinded by their addiction to gingerbread made out of poppies and mushrooms, the Moon Elves sit idly by as the Elf Eater's army surrounds their village, and when they turn on the only person who can save them from the Necromancers trap, crown prince Quaraun, turns his back on his people and joins forced with The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley, becoming the Necromancer's apprentice in a plot to kill every last Moon Elf who ever hurt him. 

~o0o~

Three Hundred and thirty years before Quaraun met Unicorn.

Quaraun was only recently returned to the Valley of the Moon Elves in the deepest regions of the Deep North. In his years spent with the Di'Jinn, he had grown accustomed to the warm desert and now back home for the first time since childhood, he had forgotten how cold his snow filled homelands were. He had also forgotten how stuck up and snobby his people were and how much they hated any, even minor, break from consistency.

While the Moon Elves could tell one from another, no one else could tell the Moon Elves apart. They took their need for consistency to alarming levels. Every Elf wore nearly identical tunics of silvery, icy blue with white embroidery. Every she-Elf word dresses of silver-blue colours. Every Elf had shoulder length hair of identical cut, and every she-Elf kept their long locks piled high on their heads. No one ever thought to not dress exactly like everyone else. No one ever thought to not look like everyone else. It simply wasn't done. In their minds, they had reached perfection. To deviate from perfection was to be inferior. Inferiority was simply not tolerated.

The Moon Elves of the Deep North were nearly cult-like in their adhesion in doing everything just exactly as every other Moon Elf in the village, and they were more then willing to kill any Moon Elf that dared stray from their carbon copy existence.

One thing Quaraun had forgotten, was how utterly insane his people were. When you live so many decades away from someone, you tend to forget the bad things and reminisces for the good. Quaraun couldn't remember any good, but he knew there must have been some. Everyone had good in them, Quaraun often said. 

Common Elves and Lower Elves in all their many dozens of races, were friendly and tolerant of of races and other species. This could not be said of the High Elves, not any more at least. In centuries past when Elves were common across the land, no Elf lived in fear, but the Elves were a dying species now and with so many bigger, stronger beings taking over the planet, the Elves had become fearful of their own survival. Once hundreds of races of Elves had walked the earth, but most were now extinct or fast in danger of becoming so. In an attempt to preserve the last few serving races of Elves, the Elves had begun to live in very isolated communities, shutting out outsiders, even shutting out other races of Elves.

Only a few thousand Elves now remained. In most cases, each race of Elf was down to only a few dozen left. Their numbers were fast dwindling as Humans spread like a plague across the earth. With a group about 500 members strong, the Moon Elves had one of the last, large Elf communities left, which farther supported their belief that they were superior to all other Elves. While the other races of Elves were dying out, the Moon Elves were surviving, a fact that inflated their already puffed up egos.

The Moon Elves lived in an arctic region only a few mile south of Santa's Village, which wasn't exactly in the North Pole, but it was far enough North that everyone said it was.

On top of the world and isolated with nothing but ice capped mountains, glaciers, and icebergs for neighbours, and only each other to tell themselves how great they were, the Moon Elves had long ago sunk into a genetic insanity caused by centuries of incest, that resulted in horrific blood lusts and violence, with the Moon Elves often turning to cannibalism out of nothing more then boredom. Whitest of the albino white High Elves, the Moon Elves based their superiority over others, by the near colourlessness of their skin.

The Moon Elves were whiter then the snow they lived in, and that made them better then any one, or so they said, because they were able to blend in with their snowy surroundings and nothing could find them to kill them. If your hair, skin, or eyes could be seen against a backdrop of snow, you were inferior and worthy of the death that came for you. When they started killing off the other races of Elves, they started with the darkest skinned races first.

The Moon Elves had been driven to the Deep North nearly a thousand years ago, in the great war between the High Elves and the Common Elves. Crowning themselves Kings over all life, the Moon Elves had taken to slaughtering all the other races of Elves in a fanatical cleanings of the bloodline. The war had battled on for decades, ending with the few remaining unannihilated races of High Elves, banding together with Common Elves, Dark Elves, and Blood Elves, in an attempt to drive back the psychotically deranged Moon Elves.

The problem with fighting the Moon Elves, was they didn't care if they died for their cause, nor did they care who they had to kill to prove they were right. They were zealous fanatics ready to die for their cause, and they were lead by a Necromancer King who was resurrected the dead of their fallen enemies to do battle for them.

The war would still have been raging on, had it not been for a blinding white light that flashed through the sky, followed by a huge silver ball, the size of a small planet crashing into the Atlantic Ocean and flooding most of the planet. Entire nations were wiped out. Many species simply vanished, drowned in the great flood. Dragons and Unicorns, once plentiful beasts, were now rarely seen. Nearly every magical race was brought to the brink of extinction, allowing Humans to take over the planet.

The Moon Elves retreated to the Deep North, while the few races to survive the flood banded together in a desperate attempt to rebuild their crippled world.

After many months of watery terror, the flood waters went down, and while nations tried to rebuild, a new enemy arose from the depths of the ocean. Sightings of strange tentacle beasts began to be reported by sailors. Stories of monsters pulling ships below the waves, and later resurfacing, the crew dead, their undead bodies animated, the heads of the dead men replaced by squids. The alien squid headed beasts soon left the ocean in search of more bodies into which to implant their young.

Soon the world forgot about the terror of the Moon Elves, as a new terror walked among them:

the Thullids.

The Sacred Pink JellyFish

Little was known of the Thullids, and where they came from was unclear. All that was really known was that these were the last survivors of a planet whose sun had blown up and burned it's solar system. Their goals however were very clear: capture all life and take control of the planet. Captives were divided into three groups: food, slaves, and host bodies for implanting young.

While the squid-headed Thullids were the ones most people saw, there were also bird headed and octopus headed Thullids, likewise easy to detect by their outer appearance, but what few people knew was there were others that never hatched out of their host's head, and walked among the world, undetected: the Jellies.

The most well known of the Thullids, were the Di'Jinn, a cult-like group of wizard priests whose one goal in life was to worship and protect a tiny pink Jellyfish, whom they called The Grand High Emperor of the Triple Planets. The Di'Jinn stood out among other Thullids by the bright pink robes they wore, all heavily embroidered with jellyfish like abstract patterns, an outward sign of their loyalty to the insane and immortal pink Jellyfish they worshiped. 

In the Temple of the Di'Jinn, sat one Thullid, ZooLock the Great, who had served the Grand High Emperor for millennia. It was his job, to carry with him every where he went, a small round glass bowl of water, in which lived a tiny pink Jellyfish, that was the ruler of all the Thullids. Dozens of Di'Jinn priests, trained as fierce warriors, guarded ZooLock, who guarded their precious pink Jellyfish.

For centuries, ZooLock stood at his post, until one day, rumour arose of an army of Liches from the North, and fear stuck the old Thullid's heart. As powerful as the Thullid were, they were no match for Liches, especially not Liches built by the evil Phookan Necromancer Gwallmaiic, King of the Faeries.

Everyone knew Gwallmaiic, The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley, a power hungry shape shifting Phooka, who for nearly a thousand years, had been slaughtering Elves and Faeries and had recently begun targeting Thullid villages. Rumours were circulating that Gwallmaiic was looking for the Thullid's infamous Jellyfish king, and with the Elf Eater's army seen marching across the desert of the Di'Jinn, ZooLock gathered up the Grand High Empire and fled.

Terror seized every Thullid on the planet when news of the kidnapped jellyfish went out across the land, and try as they might, no one could find the squid-headed priest or his tiny pink ward.

A new war broke out, this time between the Thullids and the Faeries, but in the end, the king was gone and for centuries there was no word of what had happened to ZooLock or the sacred pink Jellyfish. Fearing The Grand High Emperor was dead, as the Thullids fell into mourning. 

Outside the Temple of the Di'Jinn a heard of wild ponies gathered. No one could explain where they had come from. They simply appeared one night. Thousands of little, miniature, shaggy black horses, no larger then goats. The roamed the desert of the DiJinn, in places no horse could survive, feeding on what, no one knew. At the head of the herd marched a the smallest pony of all. A strange looking pony with wild matted braids in it's mane and tail and a gleaming silver horn shining upon it's head. Where the DiJinn went, the tiny unicorn and it's mysterious ghost-like herd of Sheltand ponies followed.

One day, rumours began to circulate that the unthinkable had been done, and the Grand High Emperor himself had been implanted into the body of a host. Soon Thullid raiding parties were searching villages for Thullid Spawnlings in a desperate search to find their missing king. And every where the Thullid went, a small black unicorn followed, watching, waiting for the day when the Di'Jinn would return to their temple with their beloved sacred pink Jellyfish in tow.

While ZooLock himself was never found, the Di'Jinn stopped searching when they received a desperate plea for help from the Moon Elves of all people. Among other things, the Di'Jinn were known as great healers, and the Moon Elves had in their midst a mad child they knew not what to do with. A child that had 6 years prior, been attacked by Thullids and was suspected of now being a Spawnling.

The Moon Elves were used to insanity in their kin. It was natural to them. What wasn't natural was the small Elfling named Quaraun, only 9 years old, who one day walked out into the village and said to the other Elfings: 

“I wish you would drop dead.” 

Immediately they obediently obeyed, and every Elfling in the village dropped dead.

Where the child not the crown prince and only male heir of the royal family, the Moon Elf villagers would have stoned the strange child to death. In fact, they tried too, and his uncle the king, immediately locked the child in the tower of the Moon Elf castle then sent a message to the Di'Jinn. No one in the village understood this, for it was unlike their king to contact any outsider. He wouldn't associate with lesser races of Elves, let alone a demonic beast like a Thullid, and yet, here they were. The Thullid's infamous Di'Jinn priests, standing in their village, with the Moon Elf king, handing the only male heir over to them. It shocked everyone, and when the Di'Jinn returned to their temple, with Quaraun in tow, they called off their search for their missing pink Jellyfish, and focused all their attention on the Moon Elf instead. All around the Di'Jinn temple the armies little black ponies, watching and waiting.

Every day for seven decades, the little Moon Elf left the temple to watch the wild ponies playing in the river. All the ponies ponies kept their distance, save one: the one with the gleaming silver horn.

Then one day, when Quaraun arrived at the river, he found the Di'Jinn waiting...

The ponies fled in terror but few escaped the wrath of the Di'Jinn and the black unicorn watched in terror as the Thullids slaughtered his army.

The young Elf stood over the dead ponies in tears.

With the herd of ponies dead the Thullids turned upon the unicorn, but didn't live long enough to kill him. 

“You'll not kill my Unicorn!” 

Was the last words the Thullids heard.

The unicorn watched as every last Di'Jinn withered away and died in horrific agony, under the wrath of their beloved pink Jellyfish.

King Gwallmaiic:
Elf Eater of Pepper Valley,
Leader of The Lich Lords

~o0o~

All life in the desert was gone, save a small Elf wearing pink Thullid silks and a black Unicorn. The dazed and confused Elf turned around and walked out of the desert, and walked clear across the planet, making his way back home to the Moon Elf village of the Deep North, while the Phooka gathered up what little remained of his army and trailed along behind.

Years passed as the pink robed wizard priest, walked across the planet and everywhere Quaraun went, rumours gathered, of the Moon Elf Necromancer in Thullid clothes, and the bodies he left behind in every village he visited. In the years it took for him to walk back home, he had gained a reputation for being the single most feared being to ever exist: more feared then the Thullids, more feared then the Elf Eater himself.

~o0o~

Quaraun in his many decades living with the Di'Jinn had taken to dressing like them, and now wore very elaborately bejewelled dresses in brilliant shades of pink. He stood out starkly against the silvery, blueish white snow covered landscape. His hair, likewise strayed from convention, having having never cut it in several decades, Quaraun's silvery white hair, now reached to his knees.

Quaraun had only been a small child when the Moon Elves had sent him to live with the Thullid wizards. The squid headed aliens mages ate Elves and it was expected that they would eat Quaraun and the Moon Elves would be done with their troublesome little Elf. No one, save the king, had expected the Thullids to take the Elf in and treat him as one of their own, much less that they would train him in their dark magic arts and induct him into their elite wizarding society The Order of the Di'Jinn.

Upon realizing that Quaraun would never be eaten by the Thullids and that he was fast gaining a reputation as the most powerful wizard of all time, the Moon Elves decided it was time to bring him back into their society and undo the damage of his having taken up wizardry. The Moon Elves shied away from magic arts, seeing them as a great evil. They saw Quaraun's fast rising fame as a black eye against their culture, for the world saw Quaraun as a representation of his people and his people saw him as a freak and a corruption of everything they held dear and sacred. They determined they could not allow him to go on this way and must turn him back into a good and proper Moon Elf before it was too late and he became too set in his ways. They had requested his return several times and were surprised when one day he actually showed up, unannounced.

Quaraun was on his way home to the Valley of the Moon Elves in the far Deep North, after having lived so many decades with the Di'Jinn. Quaraun had speech disorders, was plagued with phobias, and was shorter, smaller, and thinner then every other Moon Elf. Seen by the others as a retarded, weak, runt in frail health, he had spent his early childhood being bullied and teased horrendously by the other Moon Elves. It was why he had killed them. Quaraun for what ever reason, had no memory of having killed anyone, not the Moon Elf children who'd bullied him, nor the Di'Jinn who'd raised him. He had also had time to forget what the villagers were like, how they had treated him, and they in turn, where not expecting to see a the crown prince return as a transvestite dressed in shimmering pink gowns, making him in their eyes, far more freakish then when he had left.

The Moon Elves had other reasons for requesting Quaraun's return. Reasons which they had chosen not to tell him about, for fear he'd remember how they'd treated him and not help them.

A thousand years ago or more, no one really knew the date, there had risen up a king. An evil, murderous, bloodthirsty, monster, who set out to killing every king across the globe. One by one the monstrous beast had slaughtered every King of the Realm of Fae, declaring himself King of all the Faeries. The creature was a bitter, angry Phooka. An evil trickster Faerie who thought there was nothing more delightsome then to watch his victims die horrible death at the expense of his often bloody, practical jokes.

King Gwallmaiic hailed from Fire Mountain of Pepper Valley, and he had an insatiable lust for eating Elves, and thus he became known as The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley. But after a thousand years of terror, the evil King vanished without a trace. Only to rise up again a few hundred years later as a Lich, unlike any Lich the world had ever known. He was not dead. No one could explain it. He was not fully a Lich and yet he had very Lich-like traits and powers. The horrors King Gwallmaiic had rained on Elven villages in his lifetime was nothing compared to the nightmares his reign of strange-near-undeath had brought. Millions of Elves fell in his wake and rumours said that he ate the flesh of every one of them.

The Elves of the Deep North had long thought themselves safe from this monstrous terror, but as the Elven villagers of the South became extinct, the Phookan King and his army of undead minions moved farther north. And now the aristocratic High Elves of the Deep North shuddered in terror as the undead Phookan army marched ever closer to their snow capped mountains.

As much as the Moon Elves hated their frail, transvestite prince, in his 70 year absence he had gained a reputation as the most powerful and most deadly wizard since the Elf Eater himself. Rumours said Quaraun was one of the few beings to ever meet a Lich face to face and live to tell the tale. Quaraun supposedly had a skill for getting close to Liches and killing them. Permanently, a difficult feat, as Liches were eternal beasts who could regenerate indefinably. It was the hope of the Moon Elves, that by having Quaraun back in their village, he would kill the Elf Eater f Pepper Valley and save all Elves everywhere or at least, save the only important ones: The Moon Elves.

~o0o~

Quaraun's life was nowhere near perfect. After having run most of the past several months, he was glad to be back home. The problem was that he couldn't remember who he was running from or why. He had no memory of the events of his last few weeks with the Di'Jinn and he didn't know why. Something horrible had happened, his mind kept telling him. But he couldn't remember what. He was running from something, that much he knew. He also knew someone was following him. Who and why, he did not know.

Quaraun was still a few days out from the village. His stomach rumbled, reminding him how hungry he was, as he looked up and focused on the main road, trying to determine which way was North. The road was vacant of houses. No buildings of any kind. All he could see for miles were snow covered fields and dense snow laden pine forests. It had been a while since he had last seen a house and several days since the last village. In places the snow was seven feet deep, it was difficult travelling. In his years living in the desert he had forgotten how cold and wet snow was. His wet silks stuck to his skin making it difficult to walk. And the further north he went, the deeper the snows got. 

The sun had started to sink below the treeline and Quaraun knew he had to find somewhere to bed down soon, and try to find something to eat. It would be too cold to travel once the sun had set. The frigid cold of the dead icy filled nights could kill any creature caught outside after dark.

As Quaraun pondered where to set up camp for the night, a herd of horses, with Phookan and Dark Elf riders galloped past him. His long silver hair whipped around his face and shoulders along with the ice crystals and chunks of snow that was kicked up from the speeding hooves. 

Quaraun watched the evil army of the Elf Eater as they passed. They were not long gone before he heard them stop, on come riding back. 

The army was lead creature unlike anything Quaraun had ever seen before, simultaneously hideous yet exotically beautiful at the same time. The beast was monstrous, every inch of it covered in long shaggy matted black fur. On it's hands were huge claws, sharp enough to lop off a man's head in a single swipe. It's teeth were fearsome, protruding like razors out of it's mouth, and long gazelle-like horns on it's head. The creature rode on a black stallion, with a gleaming silver horn growing from it's head, but as the creature approached, the horse and the beast both melted away, leaving behind only a small dark skinned man, now somewhat Human looking, and barely five feet tall. The shape shifter had a wild grin on his face and a devilish gleam in his sparkling black eyes.

“Ya be Quaraun, evil wee little Moon Elf, murderer of the Di'Jinn.” 

“I have killed no one.”

“Ah. Aye. Ya secret be safe un sound with me. I shall tell not no one person, nay what it be this t'ing ya has done.”

“What do you want?”

“To touch ya. Feel ya. Sink me cock deep inside of ya. Yis a lovely little Elf. Ya be so innocent, yet so evil. Ya yin un yan meld together so fabulously.”

“My what?”

"Yin un yan?"

"I don't understand you, and I don't think I want to."

“Yin un yan. Magic ya knows not of, but ya has. I can feels it. Ya be destined for great things, wee little Jelly Elf.”

The Phooka reached out and touched Quaraun's face.

“Kill him and be done with it,” said a Dark Elf who now road up beside them.

“Back off Gibedon. Never interfere with me work,” the Phooka growled. "Bother me again un I shall eet yas next."

“Gibedon?” Quaraun asked. “The Necromancer?”

“Aye, me apprentice, but the job be open for another iffy ya be wantisng it.”

“You're King Gwallmaiic.”

“Aye. I is.”

“Elf Eater of Pepper Valley. Murderer of millions.”

“Ya knows who I be yet ya be no afeared of me. I likes that. I likes that a lot. Strange Elf ya is. Yis scared of so mony t'ings, yet ya does na run from me. Why is that, eh?”

“Why would I be scared of you? You're nothing but a Faerie.”

"No t'ing but a Faerie. Aye. King the Fae I is. Most feared creature on this planet, un ya has no fear of me. Why ya no fear me?"

Quaraun knew that he was facing the infamous black hearted King of the Faeries, himself, and were Quaraun any other Elf, he would have been trembling in fear, but Quaraun had a bad habit of being scared of things he had no reason to fear, and not fearing the things he should.

"You're a Faerie. Faeries are useless gutter trash. Scum of the Earth. Almost as bad as Demons. No one who knows anything about Faeries has any reason to fear them. They resort to illusions, pranks, and trickery. They can't hurt you if you don't eat their food."

"True. But then ya can ne'er be sure ya has no eaten Fae food."

The little Phooka walked slowly around the Elf as he spoke. As short as Quaraun was, the Phookan king was several inches shorter, barely coming up to the Elf's shoulders.

“I can rarely get this close to ya.”

“Implying you've been close to me before?”

“Mony times,” the Phooka breathed as he moved close to the Elf, stepping up on his toes and kissed Quaraun's ear. “Und so lovely ya be. This be closest I has ever been to ya. I has wanted to touch ya for so mony years. Ya has ne'er let me get this close before.”

“I've never seen you before.”

“Oh ya have. Ya just do'na knows it. I be shape shifter. I be anything. Anyone. I be mony. I try for years to get close to ya, but ya be skittish un run away, every time.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“If I were gonna kills ya, I would already has done it. I wants to fuck ya not kill ya. I is ever devoted follower. Pretty Pink JellFish, loveliest of all creatures. She went missing. To where no one knows. Rumour has it, she got implanted inside a Moon Elf. Pretty female goddess. Ruler of the galaxy. Imprisoned by the DiJinn. Escaped. Captured again. Now imprisoned inside the body of an Elf. I has done followed her for centuries. She went missing decades ago. I has mourned her loss ever since. Now I has found her again. She lives inside of yas. I worship the ground ya walks on. I always have. I always will. Before ya hads a body I could no touch. Now ya has a lovely body waiting to be fucked.”

"You think I'm the Sacred Pink JellyFish?"

"Aye."

"You're insane."

"Aye. But I loves ya still the same. Pretty little Quaraun. Yis insane yarself. Quaraun the Insane. Is that not what they calls ya?""

Quaraun did not know why, but he felt no threat from the creature and so made no move to get away, as the little Faerie pressed it's warm body close against him. Though Quaraun was a very short Elf, the Faerie was even shorter than he was and stood on the Elf's feet, then rose up on his toes to be eye level with the Elf. The Phooka was pushing his hard erection between the Elf's legs and it was arousing Quaraun, much more then he wanted to admit. Gingerly, Quaraun put his hands on the Phooka's chest and pushed him back a few inches.

“How do you know me?”

“I has hunted ya for years. Could ne'er catch ya. Then one dae I were wounded un ya saved me life.”

“I do not remember that.”

“And also I will never forget it. Nor will I fail to remember how ya saved, rescued, un protected what were left remaining o me army. I has worshiped thee faithfully for centuries un ya saved me when I could nay be saved."

"You think I'm a god?"

"Aye. Though me army does not."

“Your army?” Quaraun looked around at the motley crew of various Dark Fae, Dark Elves, Blood Elves, and undead creatures, which were gathering to watch what their leader would do to the young Moon Elf. “I have never seen your army before.”

“Ya did. In the desert of the Di'Jinn. Ya saw us. Ya fed us. And the Di'Jinn unleashed their terror upon us, ya unleashed ya terror upon them. We be indebted to ya. We'd all be dead now, were not for ya.”

“I don't know what your talking about.”

“Ya's an Elf after me own 'eart. Some dae ya will remember what ya did for the wee little ponies un when ya does, I shall be waiting for ya. Come Gibedon, we leave.”

The mesmerizingly beautiful black haired, black eyed Phookan leader turned and whistled at Quaraun, then grasped his privates in a lewd gesture.

"Ya're a pretty one," the Scottish hell beast said to Quaraun. "I woulds love to fuck ya wee lil bahookie."

Quaraun swore at him in Thullid, with a disgusted grimace, which made the Phookan leader laugh. He blew Quaraun a kiss as they road away, and Quaraun hoped he'd never see them again. Quaraun hated Faeries. No good ever came from associating with Faeries. Especially not Phookas. Worst Faeries of all.

Quaraun veered off the main road, into the forest to try to find a spot to set up his tent for the night. Quaraun wondered at seeing Phookas this far North. Phookas were southern beasts, normally inhabiting tropical cloud forests, jungles, and rain forests. Warm tropics were their home lands, jungles of the South Pacific, not these frigid high altitude arctic mountain ranges. Asian Demons, that had migrated to Scotland and made it their home. To find them here, just outside of Ivujivik, Quebec, worried Quaraun.

~o0o~

That night, Quaraun woke to find himself being dragged from his bedroll. Loud cheers and taunts enveloped him as his clothes were ripped from his body. He fought his attackers but they stripped him naked as they held him face down shoving his face into the snow. Someone forced his legs open and someone else knelt between his thighs. A rough, heavy hand was placed in the small of his back. A surge of wild untamed fear came over him and he fought harder with his assaulters. 

The Elf's scream hung in the air when he was penetrated hard, by who he didn't know. His body went rigid and trembled with the pain and humiliation of his predicament. His rapist made no attempt to go easy on him. There were too many of the king's men holding him down while the king raped him. His asshole was opening up and Quaraun learned to take the Phooka's entire cock until Quaraun could feel the Faerie king's thick balls slapping against his butt cheeks.

After a few minutes of agonizing pain his body started getting used to this new sensation it started to feel good. Really good. And that scared him even more. He didn't want to enjoy what was happening to him. The feeling of pain started to subside and Quaraun focused on how good cock started to feel while it was deep in his ass. After a few moments Quaraun stopped struggling. Having anal sex with a complete stranger wasn't like him at all, in fact, Quaraun had never had sex with anyone at all, male or female, but he simply could not ignore how much he was enjoying this.  

Quaraun tried not to think about the fact that the creature assaulting him was known for raping Elves, moments before killing them and eating their flesh but the thought could not escape him as fear built up in the pit of his stomach. Quaraun knew better then to give in to this, he knew he should fight, he knew he would soon be slaughtered by this gang of violent criminals, but it felt too good to try to stop them. His mind's objection to this horribly risky scenario was being overruled by his body's craving for more cock up his ass. He held his ass high in the air letting the Phooka fuck him. 

Seeing that the Elf had stopped putting up a fight, the Faerie king pushed his men aside, and now no one was holding the Elf down as the Phooka continued to ride him. Quaraun was a total anal slut and the Phooka loved it. Both men cried out in pleasure as they enjoyed the sensations of one another's bodies. Quaraun gripped his hands to the ground and pushed back hard as Gwallmaiic fucked him. Quaraun gritted his teeth and moaned. He had never experienced anything like this before. He hadn't known he could. He knew he didn't like sex with females, but the thought that he could enjoy sex with another male had never crossed his mind. Quaraun could feel his own large balls slapping up against his body as Gwallmaiic drilled himself deeper and harder into his bowels.

With another hard, deep thrust, the Phooka above him came down on all fours. He could feel the creature's warm seed flowing inside him.  As another load of the Phooka's sperm filled his bowels, Quaraun found himself shaking. Quaraun was so close to cumming. His asshole was wrecked from the harsh treatment and leaking cum and his orgasm that was building was turning into a painful blueballs. Quaraun needed to cum so badly, but what the Phooka did next, suddenly brought Quaraun back to his senses as he remembered who was doing this to him and the great danger he was in of being murdered the moment the Phooka finished fucking him.

"Ya likes that pretty t'ing." The Elf Eater whispered in Quaraun's ear, then took hold of the Elf's pointed ear with his teeth, tearing his earrings out and drawing blood. 

Blood gushed from the wound, running down his neck and staining the snow red. The Phooka licked the blood off his neck, then began sucking more blood from the wound.

"Mmm... ya tastes sooo good, pretty Sugar Pie," the Phooka laughed.

Quaraun was shivering.

“Is ya cold or frightened?” 

The Phooka pulled the Elf's cloths back on his trembling body.

This action confused Quaraun, and he became even more confused, when the Phooka once again bit him, this time on the neck, again drawing blood. Terrified that the Elf Eater was about to eat him, Quaraun snapped out of the lustful spell he'd been under and once again began to struggle against his attackers.

“Please let me go,” he cried out 

Quaraun struggled to get up, but the Phooka had a hugging grip on him and pushed him down to the ground..

“Ya wants this.”

"No!" Quaraun answered with a desperate scream.

"Ya knows ya do," the Phooka answered. 

"No! Stop!" Quaraun begged. “Please.”

“I is no gonna hurt ya, Quaraun. I knows that what ya tinking. Ya did'na start to fight me until I drew blood.”

“Let me go,” the frightened Moon Elf wailed. “Please let me go.”

“Shhhhh! Tis alright. Lay back down un I will fuck ya again.”

“No! No please! Please let me go. Please.”

The Phooka kissed Quaraun's face.

“Do no be so frightened. I likes ya. I does no seek to harm ya. I wants ya to join me un me army. Ya has great potential. I can feel it. Ya be already a great wizard, but ya lack training. I can help ya with that. And ya can be me lover un share me bed. Ya'll like that, I can tell by how ya was acting just now whilst I was in ya. Ya a right a little slut ya are.”

Seeing that the Elf was struggling against their king, the men once again took hold of Quaraun. Loud voices yelled obscenities over him, and harsh hands griped at his wrists and legs. With sudden strength, Quaraun pushed the Phooka off him. Someone let go of a leg, which he used to kick as hard as he could, dislodging the second person that held his other leg. He jerked his arm free, tuned and belted the person holding his wrist. Then Quaraun scrambled to his feet and ran.

"You fucking son of a bitch faced whore! He broke my frigging nose!" Quaraun heard behind him scream, but he didn't slow down or give it a second thought.

"Let him go," Quaraun heard the Phookan leader say. "I do no want him hurt. I found out what I wanted to knows. I gots other plans for him.”

~o0o~

Quaraun made it back to his village without further incident, but when he arrived, his father was less then happy to see his son dressed in a dress and looking like a daughter instead of a son and immediately began arguing with him, and thus Quaraun never got a chance to mention his encounter with the Phookas or inform the village that the Elf Eater's army was travelling only two days outside from the village.

Quaraun had forgotten how much contempt his father and the villagers had for him and quickly regretted coming back. Quaraun had intended to tell them that the Elf Eater's army was only hours outside the village, but Quaraun was a scattered brained Elf and forgot things easily when distracted or nervous. And he was more scared of his father then he had been the beast that had raped him.

Outside the village, a pair of dark eyes watched as the others scolded, yelled at, and mercilessly teased to poor little Elf. Quaraun fled from the Moon Elves and ran crying to his old room at the top of the tower, locking himself in for several days.

"Poor Little Elf, so innocent, so pure, so easily corruptible," the Phookan king said to himself. Gwallmaiic then turned to his followers. "I will'na be needing ya for a while. Go south, raid the other Elven villages, but do'na touch these Moon Elves, not yet, not till I say so."

"What is your plan, sire," asked the Dark Elf who stayed close to the king.

“I want him in me army.”

“The pink sissy?”

“Aye.”

“That Elf's no fighter.”

"That there, not be an Elf.”

“He looks like an Elf.”

“I can looks like an Elf too.” Upon saying this the Phooka shifted and changed into the form of a Moon Elf. “Judge not what lifes inside, by what the outside looks like, Have ya learned nothing from me Gibedon?”

“If that is not an Elf, then what is it?”

“Look at the clothes.”

“I am, he looks ridiculous. No self respecting Elf would parade around dressed like that.”

“Exactly me point. That not an Elf.”

“Then what is he?”

“Ya seen creatures dress like that before.”

“Those squid headed monsters dress like that.”

“Mmmmm. And that does no strike ya as odd?” 

“The Moon Elves' crown prince is eccentric.”

“The crown prince is eccentric,” the Phooka mocked the Dark Elf. “Unlike him, ya has brain Gibedon. Why dontcha use it, before ya lose it the same way him gone un lost his?”

“You're not being clear, Sire.”

“Not being clear,” the Phooka muttered under his breath. “It good thing yar good in bed un good at fighting for me, or I'd've eaten ya by now. Ya so damned stupid.”

“Forgive my ignorance, Sire, but I am only an Elf.”

“Him has'na got any brains in him head un him smarter then ya bes. Where dids we just follow him from?”

“The forest.”

The Phooka punched the Elf in the head.

“We dids just followed him half way 'round friggin' world from Desert of Di'Jinn, ya dolt.”

“So?”

“So? Him were living with Thullids. Ya ever seen a Thullid not kill an Elf?”

“Not unless it was a Spawnling waiting to hatch... aaah. I see. That's why he wears Thullid clothes. He's not an Elf.”

“Aye. That there be a Thullid Spawnling, masquerading as an Elf. There ain't no brain in him head. Was eet up long time ago by that pink Jellyfish that living in that hollowed out skull of his.”

“Thullids are dangerous. They can't be trusted.”

“They be moe chaotic evil than a Chaos Demon, aye. And this one be unstable, but there be rumours among the Thullid that the Grand High Emperor of the Triple Planets has been implanted in a host body and walks among us. And with the way the Di'Jinn practically worshiped Quaraun, I id guessing their leader does be living in the head of that there Elf.”

“You need more then a hunch.”

“I got more then a hunch. I saw what he did to the Di'Jinn un I got a taste of his blood. That be a Thullid and there be a strong magic in this one. As a wizard, he be more powerful then Yis, Gibedon. I does no tinks he knows it. Him be raging volcano of destruction waiting to explode. And I want him on me side when he goes off."

~o0o~ The rest of this novel can be read here.

Volume 3: BoomFuzzy

Three Hundred years before Quaraun meet Unicorn in The Night of The Screaming Unicorn, he meet another Phooka, the same Phooka in another form, when an Elf eating candy-maker arrives in the Moon Elf Village and puts every one under a spell so that no one notices as villagers are one by one disappearing.

Young wizard Quaraun sees through the illusion, but instead of stopping it, helps the monster pick who to kill, and builds 13 phylacteries for the most infamous Lich making spell any wizard ever cast: the one that created the Thirteen Lich Lords, in the process falling in love with the leader of the Lich Lords, The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley himself.

Life is going good for the young wizard, until his best friend BeaLuna the Gnome alerts his father that there's more going on in the gingerbread house the making candy, and a mob of Moon Elves sets out to kill Quaraun in a public execution.

Enranged by the near murder of his lover, the illusions melt away revealing the Lich Lord and his innocent looking gingerbread house for the monsters they really are.

With the Twighlight Manor now threatening to eat every Elf in the village, the Moon Elves plot to destroy the suicidal Elf Eater and his sentient house, not realizing that worse things walked among then then Phooka's and Liches: a Thullid has taken up residence in the Pink Necromancer's head, remaining peacefully dormant until BoomFuzzy's death unleash's it's fury on them all.

---

TRIGGER WARNING:

Another of the stories banned by fanfiction.net in 2012, this one contains three controversial scenes:

The torture scene when Quaraun receives his sex altering injury.

The graphically detailed suicide of BoomFuzzy 

The bloody murder of Quaraun's four children.

By far the bloodiest story of the series, this novel contains disturbing details of death, abuse, torture, suicide, and murder and is considered to be Gorn.

---

As you follow the series along, you find that Unicorn's obsession with Quaraun reaches a point where Quaraun gives up and simply allows himself to be sexually abused, daily, for years on end, by the Unicorn, because he's realized he can't get away from the extremely obsessive creature that follows him every where he goes.

One of the most disturbing scenes of the entire series is in volume 3, BoomFuzzy, when it is revealed, just how long the Unicorn's obsession has been going on. While most of the series takes place when Quaraun is an adult and is actually quite old, the novel, BoomFuzzy, is a flashback, that takes place when Quaraun was a child. 

As a young boy, about 9 years old, Quaraun finds an injured pony, badly abused, shackled in chains, and locked in a cage. Not realizing the little innocent looking Shetland Pony, is actually a Phooka (a type of evil Faerie Horse), he sets it free. Phookas a viscous black unicorns, fire breathing monsters who skewer people on their horns, and take delight in crushing people to death under their hooves. There is no such thing as a good Phooka, and they are killed on sight whenever they are found. That the boy let him go free, puzzled the demonic beast.

The boy went back to his life. The Phooka followed him. From that point on, Quaraun could not escape the black Unicorn that followed his every move.

When Quaraun was age of 15, the Black Unicorn took on a humanoid form, that of a candy maker named BoomFuzzy, and set up shop in Quaraun's village. Luring children to his gingerbread house, the beast set out to killing and eating every one who got near his candy shop... except for Quaraun.

Quaraun was small, sick, and liked wearing dresses, resulting in his being bullied by the other boys in the village. When one day the bullying got out of hand and Quaraun was nearly killed, the Unicorn swept in and slaughtered the bullies, saving Quaraun's life, then taking the injurged boy back to the gingerbread house.

From there the BoomFuzzy story took a darker turn, as the young boy now finds himself, both well care for by a loving protector, and sexually abused by an obsessed stalker. The duel nature of BoomFuzzy the Unicorn, both comforts and terrifies Quaraun, as he finds himself safe and protected, while simultaneously abused and kept under strict control.

The rest of the BoomFuzzy novel becomes a self battle, with Quaraun, both loving and hating the Unicorn that both protects and hurts him.

At it's core, BoomFuzzy is a novel that takes a dark look into the effects of child abuse, sex slavery, and the confusion caused by being a child who is both loved and victimized by a psychopathic adult.

Quaraun remains with BoomFuzzy for 30 years, with their relationship rocky, as Quaraun finds himself wanting freedom to choose to love someone of his own choosing, and at the same time his not wanting to hurt the beast that truly does love him, but is incapable of showing that love in none abusive ways.

After 30 years, Quaraun leaves. He finally escapes the monster that held him captive and sexually abused him for 30 years. A few weeks later Quaraun marries his first wife. And the next day, BoomFuzzy kills himself.

Quaraun finds the body of the dead Unicorn 3 days later and is devastated, realizing that had he not married, BoomFuzzy would not have commit suicide.

The theme of Stockholm Syndrome pushes front and center into the series from that point on, with Quaraun torn between the guilt of having caused BoomFuzzy's death, and the wife he can not look at because without her, BoomFuzzy would still be alive.

The wife, seeing that her husband cares more for his childhood captive than he had let on, takes to bullying Quaraun, belittling BoomFuzzy's memory at every turn. Quaraun grows to hate his wife. The more his wife, puts down BoomFuzzy's memory, the more defensive Quaraun becomes in protecting BoomFuzzy's honor and denying that BoomFuzzy had spent years sexually abusing him.

As the years go on, Quaraun starts to forget he was BoomFuzzy's victim, he forgets that BoomFuzzy was a child rapist, he forgets that he had spent those years wanting freedom from his captive. His memories become warped and he starts to think of BoomFuzzy as a past lover. On the anniversary of BoomFuzzy's death, Quaraun's wife writes a nursery-rhyme song, belittling BoomFuzzy, and teaches it too their 4 children. Unable to take the constant belittling from his wife anymore, in a fit of rage, Quaraun lashes out at her and murders both his wife and their 4 children. 

Horrified by what he's done, Quaraun flees into the mountains, not to be seen again for decades. When he does return to civilization, he's completly lost touch with reality, thus people begin to call him "Quaraun the Insane". When questioned as to why he killed his family, the only answer he gives anyone is: "I loved my children, but I loved BoomFuzzy more."

When the law tries to arrest him, he tries to escape and accidentally kills them too. Terrified, he flees again, now wanted for for multiple murders. Scared of his own temper, now afraid to be near anyone for fear he'll kill them, Quaraun becomes a wandering hermit, living on the run, never staying in any one place more then a day or two.

Several times his timing is bad and he arrives in towns, just as someone has been killed. Knowing he killed his family and the men who tried to arrest him, villagers are quick to blame him for any and every death, and soon reports calling him a serial killer are being spread across the entire country.

---

Chapter 1: King Gwallmaiic & The Sacred Pink JellyFish

---

The Gingerbread House From Hell (Part of Chapter 2)

---

Santa Claus: Lich Of The North Pole

---

The Hanging Tree

---

The Dying Elf, Gibedon's Head, and King Gwallmaiic's Elf Eating Mansion

---

BoomFuzzy's Death

---

An Elf Gone Mad: The Rise of The Pink Necromancer

---

"I loved my children, but I loved BoomFuzzy more..."

---

Responding To a Reader Response To
"The Hanging Tree" scene from BoomFuzzy...

If you are unfamiliar with "The Hanging Tree" it is the original short story from which the entire BoomFuzzy novel was based upon.

It is also one of the single most graphic, grizzly, bloody, gory scenes of the entire Quaraun series.

And it is the scene that got the series banned off FanFiction.net.

In the short story called "The Hanging Tree" what happens is this:

Quaraun comes from a culture that outlaws same sex couples and is hiding that fact that he has a male lover. When he is accused of bedding with other males, he does not deny it and openly admits to having sex with other men, not realizing that this will incit his accusers into an angry mob, that next strips him naked, drags him to the center of town and publically tortures him, with most of the village coming forward to join in. They next hang him upside down in a tree in the town square, and continue to torture him.

The infamous highly detail, incredibly grizzly scene that got the series banned off FanFiction.net followed, as one Elf, pulled out a knife and forces it up into Quaraun's penis, then rippe the knife in a backward motion, slicing Quaraun's penis completely in half, leaving behind a scar known as "a sub penal incision". Following this Elf's example, other villagers slash Quaraun's belly, thighs, and groin with knives, leaving him horribly scarred for life. When they finished torturing him, Quaraun is left for dead, his bloody remains used as bait to capture The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley.

Unknown to the Elves however is the fact that it was the Elf Eater himself who is Quaraun's lover, and upon discovering what the Elves did to Quaraun, the Elf Eater slaughtered the Moon Elves, then takes Quaraun and spends the next several months nursing the dying Elf back to health. Quaraun eventually recovered, but he is left with a crippled leg, severe PTSD, rampant phobias that cripple his ability to function in society, and the horrific scars that he often bemoans.

This entire story is just under 3,000 words long. And it shows a horrify look at bigotry, bullying, and herd mentality of a mob joining a bully and nearly killing a gay man.

This is one of the very early stories in the series, which happens when Quaraun is very young, still a teenager. This story is the foundation base point that the other stories reference back to and you see flashbacks of it, glimpse to it, and the horrific night terrors caused by it, in nearly every volume of the Quaraun series.

In dozens of stories written after this, readers see Quaraun's life as it goes into a downward spiral of depression and mental illness, as he turns first to drugs, then to drinking, then to cutting, and eventually to multiple suicide attempts.

Today, here is what one person had to say about this scene, and what follows is my response... Enjoy!

---

Personally, as a bisexual person, I'm tired of seeing queer people only portrayed as villains, the token friend or victims of hate crimes.

~January 30, 2018

---

please come to Maine and tell the 140+ LGBTQA+ citizens of Old Orchard Beach this. I'm sure they would love to hear that you think "the queers" are NOT victims of hate crimes.

Since 2001:

40+ of them (myself included) have had their houses blown up by bombs

80+ of them have had their houses run over by backhoes (I've had to build 5 houses on my land in the past 12 years)

500+ pets, cats, dogs, and horses have been beheaded, their nailed to the doors of their LGBTQA+ owners (this has happened to me personally 13 times)

my cousin, he'd love to hear your sentiments... unfortunately, he was one of the 4 gay men whom were beheaded by the Ku Klux Klan in 2013

I used to be able to walk, but, you know as I was putting groceries in my car in WalMart parking lot when 2 gay haters decided to beat me up with a shopping cart (July 2016) I was paralyzed, they ruptured 3 discs in my spine; I'm crippled the rest of my life

you could come visit me and I can introduce you to the 8 foot tall KKK cross in my yard

2010 Portland Shaws (supermarket): an 80 year old black gay man was beaten to death while putting groceries in his car, while more the 40 shoppers cheered the attacker... his head was hit so many times by the shopping cart that by the time the police arrived, there was nothing left of his head, skull, or brain but a pool of jellied goo on the ground

April 2015, someone decided to fill my motorhome, you know the one that says "Transgender Awareness Tour Bus" on the side of it... they filled it with several thousand gallons of raw sewage/feces

August 2015 - public beheading of a transgender woman took place in the ice cream department of a local grocery store: Saco Shaws

Rotary Park, Biddeford, right next door, until 2 summers ago had the Guiness World Record for a very tall flag pole; they took the flag pole down because, they got tired of every weekend cutting down the gay men who were stripped naked and hanging by their balls from the top of the flag pole

THIS by the way, is the very real life event that inspired The Hanging Tree scene.

The first time this event happened... the gay man, was a 15 year old boy who was only SUSPECTED of being gay, because he wore a pink suit to a dance at school. Old Orchard Beach High School. The boy was striped naked, his ankels tied to the back bumper of a Old Orchard Beach Police Car, and then dragged the entire 14 mile drive, to the flagpole at Rotary Park in Biddeford, Maine. Because it happened at night, at a dance, no one noticed him missing at first... Because it was February, the month of the year, when our temperature plummet to -40F. He nearly froze to death. And with the park closed for winter, there was no one around to find him. He hung there, upside down, tied to a flag pole, hanging from the rope by his balls, for FIVE days.

That's the type of "jokes" the Old Orchard Beach police - grown men in the 40s and 50s, play on 5 year old CHILDREN, if the suspect the child might possibly be gay.

---

At night the Ku Klux Klan stands in the driveway of LGBTQA+ residents and shoots rifles fire at them.

January 4, 2016: 140+ LGBTQA+ families were marched out of their homes AT GUN POINT by police, when The Old Orchard Beach Town Hall issued a court order declaring it illegal to own property/houses if you were LGBTQA+

January 4, 2016: 140+ LGBTQA+ families were marched out of their homes AT GUNPOINT by police, when The Old Orchard Beach Town Hall issued a court order declaring it illegal to own property/houses if you were LGBTQA+

It took us 9 months and taking the case to Superior Court, but on October 21, 2016 Superior Court overruled the town's original court order as grounds of being "a gross violation of civil rights being committed by the United States Government".... for 9 months 140+ LGBTQA+ families were homeless and living in their cars while the Too Gay For Old Orchard Beach court battle went on

November 9, 2017, 3 months ago - while eating at Biddeford, McDonald's, a the manager and 5 employees, spiked my gay brother's food with so much LSD. Molly, and Meth that he went into a coma seconds after taking a bite of his meal, he remained in a coma for 5 days and nearly died; the FBI agent in charge of the attempted murder of my brother knows who did it because the whole thing was recorded on one of the restaurant's security cameras

---

Personally, as a bisexual person, I'm tired of seeing queer people only portrayed as villains, the token friend or victims of hate crimes.

---

Glad to see you are comfortable using the hate slur queer on yourself; I suppose you must use it the same way black men use niggar on themselves right? Trying to reclaim that vile, hate filled word? Are you REALLY bi or are you just saying that to sound cool? You clearly have no issues tossing the word queer around which makes me question the validity of your claim to be a part of the LGBTQA+ community.

A REAL gay person knows queer is to gay what niggar is to black; wannabes let their TRUE colours fly when they use hate terms like queer to describe themselves. Nothing brands a straight person trying to fit in faster then how they use the word queer.

You are clueless to what REAL LGBTQA+ people live with everyday of our lives if you think the hate crimes against us are a trope and using the word queer is anything close to acceptable.

I dare you to come to Maine and tell any one you are bisexual... the Ku Klux Klan will be on you in less than 24 hours

Welcome to Maine

Most of the hate crimes against the gay characters of the Quaraun series are based off the real world hate crimes against gay men happening here in Old Orchard Beach on a DAILY basis.

If you are so fed up with LGBTQA+ people being victims of hate crimes, then why don't you prove it by getting off you ass, coming up here to Maine and doing something to stop the hate crimes going on right now?

---

---

---

---

---

---

This novel was originally written on: 2007 & 2009 & 2012

This page last updated on: December 23, 2017

This page was written by Wendy Christine Allen of 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine.

All Rights Reserved.

Note: there are likely spelling errors on this site, and I am unlikely to see the ... I fix them when I find them, but, there are many issues here...

Note: English is not my first language, Shetlean Scottish is my native language, there are likly spelling and grammar errors, as I do not know American English and am attempting to write it by sounding words out.

Many times that Americans think a word on my site is misspelled, often it is not misspelled, it is just I mixed up languages and wrote it in Scottish without realizing I mixed the Scottish in with the English. Also our grammar is somewhat reversed from English grammar so words that are seeming in the wrong order for American English, is usually because they are in the correct order for Scottish and I either put English words in Scottish order by mistake or was unaware English put them in a different order then Scottish does.

For those unaware, Scottish Shetlean looks like this:

American English to Scottish:

a bit (piece) = a party --- EXAMPLE: "And some know a bit of Latin " > "And somme kan of latyn a party "

a long distance from = A piece fae

a piece of = the bit --- EXAMPLE: "The duck ate a piece of bread " > "The deuk ett the bit breid "

about the banks (on the shore/at the beach) = aboot da banks

accomplishments = kunnandi

After = Back o --- EXAMPLE: " After Halloween" > "Back o Hallomas "

alive (living) = kvikr

Always on the move = Never aff o da go

am I not = amn't I --- EXAMPLE: "Am I not invited? " > "I amn't invited? or Amn't I invited?"

are = is --- EXAMPLE: "Are you going soon?" > "Is ya to be going soon?"

autumn = dah haihst

belong to = fylgja

best = bettah moost

betray (verb) = svíkja

bewildered = villhyggjandi

building = biggin up --- EXAMPLE: "building confidence in everyday use " > " biggin up confidence in ivvryday øs "

built = builded --- EXAMPLE: "He built a new porch." > "Hims builded a new porch."

cast a spell = hoodooed

cat = kat (sounds like "caught") --- EXAMPLE: "Is it an orange cat?" > "Be he a o'jinn kat?"

child = bairn

church = kirk

color = colour

danger = hœttr

daren't = darena

daring = djarfr

dark = dökk

dark elf = Dökkálfr

dark-elves = Døkkálfar

darker = dökká

do you agree = ,eh? --- EXAMPLE: "That's a fine looking woman, do you agree?" > "Dair's ah right bonnie lass, eh?"

do you want to come too = ,eh? --- EXAMPLE: "I'm going to the store, do you want to come with me?" > "Me go to shope, eh?"

each = eche --- EXAMPLE: "Which each person can understand " > "That kan eche man understonde "

educated = lered --- EXAMPLE: "Both among the educated and the uneducated " > "As wel among lered as lewed "

elf = Alfr

Elf = Álfr

Elf Home = Álfheimr

Elf World = Álfheimr

elf-advice = Ælfred

elf-beautiful = ælfscyne

elf-friend = Ælfwine

elf-guardian (female) = Ælfwaru

elf-guardian (male) = Ælfweard

elf-powerful = Ælfric

everyday = ivvryday

eyelids = eye ledes --- EXAMPLE: "He closed his eyelids." > "Hims did shut hims eye ledes"

fair = faire --- EXAMPLE: "Going to the fair." > "Done gone went to the faire."

feild = felde --- EXAMPLE: "Standing in the feild." > "Stoodt in thems felde."

further = ferther --- EXAMPLE: "I looked further." > "I dids lokid ferther."

green = grene --- EXAMPLE: "Look at the green hedges and woods." > "Look see at thems heigges and holtz so grene."

handsome = braw --- EXAMPLE: "He is very handsome " > "Him wicked braw "

have faith = trúa

Have no doubts about our doing it = Nae faer o wis

Have no liking for this. = Hae nae brou o this.

have not = ain't

He knows how many beans make five. = He kens the laid frae the croun o the causey.

He knows which side his bread is buttered on. = He kens whilk side his bannock's buttert on.

Head for = Mak wye for

head rope in fishing nets and lines = baak

head to head = Be at the knag and the widdie

horse fly = klegsie

I = Me

I Think = Me thinks --- EXAMPLE: "I think we're late. " > "Me thinks that we is late. "

I wish you well for the future = Lang may yer lum reek (translation: Long may your chimney smoke)

idiot = eejit --- EXAMPLE: "You idiot." > "Ya eejit."

idiot = numpty

if = iffy or yif--- EXAMPLE: "If you don't mind..." > "Iffy yas does no care mind...."; "If you'll stay with me long enough = "Yif ye so longe with me wil dwelle". "

I'll be even with you = A'll see day aboot wi ye

know = ken

looked = lokid

looked = lokid --- EXAMPLE: "I looked up." > "I lifte up me eye ledes and lokid ferther."

magic = hoodoo

naked = nøkkviðr

needle = bodkin

neither = nouther --- EXAMPLE: "Who know neither Latin nor French " > "That kan nouther latyn ne frensch "

No = Nay --- EXAMPLE: "No, I don't think so. " > "Nay, me thinks not. "

Nobody knew = not-knew nobody

Noontide = Da heicht o da day

NOTE: Extra words are often added. --- EXAMPLE: "Did you meet the new family next door?" > "Dids ya gets a chance to stop by and meets with thems new folk that move-ed in down yawn there next doors to ya, eh?"

NOTE: Extra words are often added. --- EXAMPLE: "He went to Rite-Aid to pick up his prescription" > "Hims did go to that yawn there new fangled store the new folks call that Rite Aid place, to gets himself some of thems there pills what the doctor gone and tells him to take each morning, a-yep, hims did."

old = olde --- EXAMPLE: "But educated and uneducated, old and young " > "Bot lered and lewed olde and yonge "

orange = o'jinn

out = oot --- EXAMPLE: "The cat wants to go out." > "The kat he do wants oot."

outside = oot dair

people = fokk --- EXAMPLE: "the people of Shetland " > "Shetland fokk "

people = folke --- EXAMPLE: "Look at all those people." > "Lookie at all thems folke."

poorly = febelly --- EXAMPLE: "Who know French very poorly " > "That kan frensch ful febelly "

Recognising = Recognisin --- EXAMPLE: "Recognising the bilingual nature of Shaetlan speakers " > "Recognisin da wye at Shaetlan spaekers is bilingual "

shield = skjoldr

Since = For --- EXAMPLE: "Since that is your native language " > "For that is youre kynde langage "

tell = telle --- EXAMPLE: "I'll tell you in English " > "In englysch tonge I schal you telle "

the = da, de, or is not used at all --- EXAMPLE: "I went to the store" > "Me goes to da shoppe" or "Me goes to da shoppe" or "Me goes to shoppe"

them = dem, dem dair --- EXAMPLE: "I went with them" > "Me goes wit dem dair"

there = dair --- EXAMPLE: "I want those potatoes" > "Me be wanting dem dair tatetas."

they = dey

To where = whither --- EXAMPLE: ""Where you go, I will go." " > ""Whither thou goest, I'll go."

understand = understonde

understand = understonden --- EXAMPLE: "Some understand English " > "And somme understonden englysch "

very = wicked --- EXAMPLE: "very good" > "wicked good"; "very bad" > "wicked bad"; "very cold" > "wicked cold"

Where = Whither --- EXAMPLE: "Where is the restroom? " > "Whither is the privy?"

Yes = Yea or Aye --- EXAMPLE: "Yes, I think so. " > "Yea, me thinks so. " or "Aye, me thinks so. "

For anyone actually interested in learning my native language, the Scottish government has THIS listed as the official dictionary of our people:  https://static1.squarespace.com/static/61d7352954b7fd1c9dbdfef4/t/65ddb2749d5e0541a01009c0/1709027964496/Spaektionary_2024feb.pdf  

The Scottish government provides this document to show our language in use: https://www.shetland.uhi.ac.uk/t4-media/one-web/uhi-shetland-images-and-documents/documents-/shaetlan/Shaetlan-Language-Plan-2022-Shaetlan.pdf 

More information about our language can be found on this website:  https://www.iheardee.com  which is written in my native language.

However, there is also other reasons why words might be misspelled, or why I might not understand someone when they speak to me.

My grandmother Helen Ricker Allen, was from Unst, Shetland, Scotland, and she the one who raised me. She taught me to read and write, but it was Shetlain that she taught me. She died when I was 8 years old, and I was locked in a woodshed after her furneral, I escaped the woodshed 27 years later at age 31, and have been trying to learn how to speak and write English since then.

It is a very great struggle.

At age 37 I took remidial reading and speaking classes at Southern Maine Community College, but we are Gypsies and Gypsy men do not allow us Gypsy women to have education, and so, while at college, on November 14, 2013, I was beaten with a golf club, while I was 8 months pregnet, breaking my spine, hips, and knees, killing my baby and leaving me quardepaleic since.

Now my primary focus these past 13 years has been on relearning to use my hand so I could type... as of 2023, I have regained the use of my right thumb, and first two right fingers, and after 10 years offline, I am back online due to I can use three finguers.

I never went to school, so I do not know maths and numbers and sciences, and I do not know what else would have been taught to me in school. We are Scottish Gypsies and Gypsy culture does not allow females to go to school. Being born female was already a great sin, but my grandmother took great risk in teaching me reading and writing. At 4 years old I was punished by my Uncle Bruce for knowing how to read, by being beaten in the face with a cinder block brick, that broke my right jaw and left me with garbaled near-mute spoken words ever since.

Because no one ever spoke words to be face to face from he time I was 8 years old until I was 37 years old (I escaped the room at age 27, but did not start college until 37), I have no training in how to vocally sound out or speak the words I write or read. I can read words, but I do not know how to sound out or say those words. I can write words, but I do not know how to match the written word against the spoken word. I struggle to associate spoken words at all, or make them match up with writen words.

Esentially, written words and spoken words are two completly seperate languages in my brain, and I have difficulty understanding spoken words.

If you say a sentance to me with your mouth, chances are very high I will have ZERO understanding of what you said and I will not be able to ander you.

However, if you WRITE down that exact same sentabnce, I can understand you and can type a written responce to you.

My doctors tell me this is a side effect of extreme isolation and neglect and lack of human contact during my toddler, childhood, teen, and young adult years, and that my brain never deveoloped to comprehend spoken vocal words due to no one ever speaking to me in over three decades of the first half of my life.

While I can read and write, American English (somewhat) I do no know how words are sounded out, what they are supposed to sound like. I readand write by shape recognition, not by sound/vocal recognition, so when reading and writing I do no "hear the words in my head" as I am told most people do when they read and write. In other words... I see "c a t" and think "c-a-t" I do not think "cat" nor do I "see" an image of a cat, no do I "hear" the word cat spoken. I'm told that this is very rare and that most people read and write by sounding out the words and linking them to visual mind images, while hearing the sound of the word in their head. I neiher hear words in my head no see images of things in my head. I'm told this is what makes me both a speed reader and speed writer, because I'm not tripped up by hear sounds or seeing images in my head like nomal people would be doing... however, I'm also told this is why my spelling and grammar are very poor, because my brain is not hear the sounds of the words or seeing visual images of the objects the words represent, so my mind also does not register spelling and grammer errors at all.

As I was only let out of the woodshed on Sundays to go to the Cape Elezabeth Ward Church of the August Stake of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, I was never allowed to go to school or hospital either. No adults ever talked to me because I was evil for comitted the sin of being born female, so I never learned how to speak properly and do not know how to sound out words to say them.

I was 42 years old, in 2016 when, while having an MRI for my spine, the doctors found out my speak issue was caused by a broken jaw as a toddler that was healed wrong because not being allowed to go to doctors. I had surgury to fix that, and since 2016 have been trying to learn how to use my jaw and touge so I can speak vocal words now.

Since 2023 my primary focus shifted to relearning to walk. I can now, in 2026, sit up for 2 or 3 hours a day, and can sand with a cane for a few minutes, and can walk for around five thousand feet in 2 to 3 segments a day, with the help of pushing my wheelchair like a walker.

As of 2026, with a slight return to using my fingers and legs, I am once again focused on trying to learn the American English, but I live in mortal fear of my uncles and male cousins, as they are so hateful of allowing me to have education.

have no one to help me to know if I am doing words correctly, and as such, I have no way of knowing if there are spelling and grammar errors, but I asume there are, and I fix them when I learn them, but I do not know what I do not know and spelling American words is a thing I do bnot know.

I have Low Fucntioning Kanner's Syndrom, also known as "RainMan Type of Autism" aka REAL and ACTUAL Autism, not to be confused with Aspergers, High Functioning Autism, or and of thr 861 illnesses on the Autism Spectrum. An Autism Spectrum Disorder is an illness that has symptoms similar to Autism but IS NOT Autism. If you have an Autism Spectrum Disorder, it LITERALLY MEANS you do NOT have Autism.

I am medically diagnosed as "kanner's syndrome, actual autism, the rainman type, profoundly retarded autistic savant, with a general IQ of 73, and an writing IQ of 221" but they added that they did not know how to properly diagnose me as I am "technically a feral child" and they don't know "how much is the autism, and how much is simple horrific levels of abuse and neglect induced post traumatic stress disorder that will go away with proper socilization".

It means I know how to write, I can write a lot, and it is next to impossible for you to teach me how to do literally anythig else because my brain only knows how to write and doesn;t know how to do anything else..
There's a reason, when I do book signings, people are quick to say: "Okay, what's the joke? why is this stupid retard here? where's the real author? I know this retard isn't the author. where are you hiding the author, why is this fucking retard here"

The end result is, I have near zero social interaction... my 3 years in college was the ONLY face to face interaction I have ever had with humans in my entire life, and I struggle deeply to understand MOST words used by MOST people when they ask me question. And so I suffer from a huge lack of understanding many words people say to me, how to translate those words into spelling, and how to translate what it is that has been said.

The fact remains hat until there exists a human on this planet who is willing to sit down and teach me what words spoken line up with and match what words written, this deficent is unlily to improve. But the fact also remains, that I am simply far too profoundly retarded for anyone to even try to make any attempt at all even to speak a friendly "hgelloe" or "good morning" when passing me on the street, so I have lost all hope of anyone ever either being my friend, being willing to teach me how to match spoken words to written words, or how to speak to other humans.

While there are around 20k pages on this website, most of them are blocked from search engines, with only around 800 of them available for appearing in Google/Bing/etc search results. The remainder can only be accessed via the various links found throughout this site. This was done deliberately on my part, and I did it because the bulk of the pages on this website are chapters from 138 novels and 423 novellas, so only the first page of each novel and novella indexed by search engines, and the remainder are linked in order, one page at a time, via clicking "next page" at the end of each. So if you are looking for a specific page from a specific novel, Google can't help you.

Thank you for stopping by and have a nice day! ꧁✨🌸🔮🦄🔮🌸✨꧂ And if it’s your birthday today: ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐꧁ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ☆ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ꧂🤍🎀🧸🌷🍭 Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻

Wheelchair Fundraiser

@eelkat i just found out there is yet another bizarre rumour going around. where are these wild rumours coming from? who is starting them? and why? ♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author

@eelkat since I've been flooded with hundreds of messages the past two weeks asking if I still own "the world's most haunted car", yes, and here it is, filmed today May 18, 2026… but my son Xavier is dead, i am crippled and given that people are AGAIN showing up calling my Dodge "haunted", calling my friend "an alien", calling me "transgender", and spreading wild defamation slander connecting me to Stephen King, I think I need to start taking down the contact information of every blogger, podcaster, youtuber, and social media account spreading these rumors, and sue every single one of them for CAUSING my car to be cut in half May 10, 2010, for CAUSING the backhoe that drove over my house August 8, 2013, for CAUSING my son's murder November 14, 2013, for CAUSING me to be crippled and in a wheelchair November 14, 2013, and for CONTINUING to CAUSE harassers to show up in person to harass me near daily, STILL now in 2026. EVERYONE telling you my car is haunted, telling you my friend is an alien, calling my car "the goldeneagle", calling my friend "Etiole", or trying to connect me or my car to Stephen King, is lying to you. They crippled me when I was 8 months pregnant, and a woman with a golf club, severed my spine and bashed my baby's head in, I spent 9 years relearning to walk, and the FBI is 13 years into the murder investigation and not yet identified the attacker who crippled me and killed my baby, both violently with a golf club and the FBI believes that it is friends and family of the woman who did it, are the ones who started and spread the rumors saying my car is haunted, saying I'm an alien abductee, saying all kinds of similar bs about aliens, ufos, ghosts, witchcraft, demons, and Stephen King connections, even though I don't believe in ghosts, aliens, ufos, demons, and had never heard of Stephen King before 30k of his fans showed up in my yard trying to find my car! FBI believes the backhoe driver and the murderer are the same person and it is a developer who wanted my land and so started the Stephen King, ghost, and alien rumors all in an attempt to drive me off my land, and when it didn't work they drove a backhoe over my house, and when that didn't work they crippled me and killed my son. Why are they doing this? How do I get them to stop? ♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author

FacebookXPinterestTumblrRedditWhatsApp

Get an email whenever Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻 publishes on Medium.

I also write on these locations: | Amazon | Ao3 | Blogger | GumRoad | Medium | Notd | OnlyFans | Tumblr | Vocal |

Do you know who drove this backhoe over my house at 146 Portland Avenue, Old Orchard Beach, Maine on August 8, 2013? If you have any information, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.

My house at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, July 4, 2013, photo taken because we had just finished building a baby room on the back. vs My house August 8, 2013, when the same group of people (yes group, the golf club woman was not alone when she attacked November 14, 2013, nor was she alone with her second attack July 2016.) who murdered my son on November 14, 2013 at Southern Maine Community College and crippled me July 26, 2016 at scarborough WalMart,... they arrived the first time with a backhoe on August 8, 2013, that they used to drive over my house, during a time of day that I normally was home asleep... I had to work a different shift at the Waffle Cone Pizza Food Truck at George's Parking Lot by Bill's Pizza at the OBB Peir, that day, otherwise, I too would be at the bottom of a landfill, along with my house and everything I owned that was also in the house. I was 5 months pregnant at the time and have been homeless for just under 14 years, homeless ever since....

... which means it is now only a few weeks from the 14th anniversary of my son's murder. I was 8 month pregnant November 14, 2013, and a student ay SMCC, and coming out of the Buglight Lighthouse art studio after art class, when a still unidentifiedwoman wielding a golf club attacked me, severed my spine, while I was 8 months pregnant, triggered early labour, then killed my son minutes after he was born.

While accusing me of being transgender, screaming "transvestite freak" and "look at that thing, that's Ken's son in a dress"... while I was 8 months pregnant.

My house at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, July 4, 2013, photo taken because we had just finished building a baby room on the back. vs My house August 8, 2013, when the same group of people (yes group, the golf club woman was not alone when she attacked November 14, 2013, nor was she alone with her second attack July 2016.) who murdered my son and crippled me, arrived the first time with a backhoe that they used to drive over my house, during a time of day that I normally was home asleep... I had to work a different shift at the Waffle Cone Pizza Food Truck at George's Parking Lot by Bill's Pizza at the OBB Peir, that day, otherwise, I too would be at the bottom of a landfill, along with my house and everything I owned that was also in the house. I was 5 months pregnant at the time and have been homeless for just under 14 years, homeless ever since.

The backhoe driver returned November 14, 2013, armed with a golf club, used it to break my spine and smash my baby's brains out on the ground

On November 14, 2013, my son was murdered. I was 8 months pregnant, leaving my college classroom, and just getting into my car, when 3 strangers, a man and two women, armed with golf clubs leapt out from behind my car screaming "kill or be killed, kill the transvestite freaks, kill them all before they kill us! look at that thing! That is Ken's son, look at how it's dressed! kill the transvestite freaks! kill or be killed"... while the bald man and the red haired woman chanted this over and over, the blonde woman, lunged with the golf club.

She severed my spine, I am now a quadriplegic, and been paralyzed arms and legs, and in a wheelchair for 13 years now. She broke my hips, my knees, my legs, ruptured most of my discs, and shattered three of my vertebrae so bad that the shards of bone acted like glass and embedded themselves into my spinal column nerve bundle.

The attack also triggered labour.

My son was born in that parking lot, and he lived only a couple of minutes, before the deranged blonde woman, beat his head in and smashed his brains out, with the same golfclub she had just used to sever my spine and leave me crippled for the rest of my life.

Realizing that I was not transgender, and they'd just murdered a baby, the man grabbed the 2 women and forcibly dragged them away to a 4 door white pickup truck, and they left me there to die.

The FBI told me later, that a few weeks before this attack, and transwoman, had murdered a cis woman, in a parking lot, abou 20 miles away from where I was attacked. The FBI, believes that my attackers, had somehow found out I wrote transgender fiction, connecting my real name to my penname, (my father's name is in fact "Ken", and I do have a brother) and believed that I wrote transgender fiction, because I was myself transgender, even though I'm not transgender. The FBI, believes the attackers, thought I was my brother, pretending to be a woman.

The FBI investigation, into my son's murder, has dragged on for 13 years, and still now in 2026, continues on, with the FBI, still not having yet identified my attackers, and only guessing at what their motive was.

Thus we come to 2014, and the full swing change of the series I write. WHY my series, went from just a transman main character living life, to the full blown Mpreg genre series that it now is today.

Before the attack, I had a chance of having a baby. I don't know. And because I'm in America, I'm too old to adopt. You have to be under 45 years old to adopt a baby. That is the law in America. I was informed this, when we tried to adopt, now that my injuries leave me unable to get pregnant a 9th time.

Thus began my obsessively writing, my transman main character, pregnant. Always pregnant now. Every time. Every story. Stories that now fully focus on pregnancy, labour, miscarriages, babies dying, babies living, raising babies... the whole series, since 2014 has devolved into an outright baby obsession.

Meanwhile, reborn baby dolls were suggested to me by my therapist, and have also become a deeply obsessive part of my life. Because 13 years ago my son was murdered minutes after he was born, because a transphobic bigot mistook me for being transgender, I'm STILL in a wheelchair, struggling to relearn to use my arms and legs, now 13 years later, and I'm still DAILY dealing with police officers and FBI agents who while they are trying to find my son's killer, they are also daily reminding me... oh, yeah, my son was murdered, literally ripped out of my belly, by a transphobe. Who still has not been located and walks free to kill again.

The golfclub woman as she looked during the golf club attack at Southern Maine community college November 14, 2013. She is about 20 to 30 years older then me and would be around 75 to 85 years old now in 2026. If you have any information about the identity of this child murderer, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322

The golfclub woman as she looked during the shopping cart attack at Scarborough WalMart July 26, 2016. She is about 20 to 30 years older then me and would be around 75 to 85 years old now in 2026. If you have any information about the identity of this child murderer, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322

The 2nd woman as she looked at both attacks, her hair goes all the way down to her knees. She is about 20 to 30 years older then me and would be around 75 to 85 years old now in 2026. If you have any information about the identity of this child murderer's accomplice, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322

Do you know who these two woman who crippled me and murdered my baby, at Southern Maine Community College at 10PM on November 14, 2013, are, and what their connection to the backhoe that drove over my house is? If you have any information, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.

I am a legally blind quadriplegic, and low verbal, I have also published 138 novels in the last 48 years. It's not as impossible as people think. The problem being blind and quadriplegic, medically have different meanings then how those two words are used medically.

Fewer than 3% of all blind people see nothing. While 97% people who are classified as fully blind are able to see up to two feet in front of them. Legally blind means I can see more then two feet in front of me but not far enough to see twenty feet in front of me. In my case I can see about eight feet.

Quadriplegic, has varying levels, it means having a damaged nerve bundle in the spinal column causing limited mobility of all 4 limbs, (in my case this was done by a women wielding a golf club, who also beat my 8 month infant's head to pulp on the parking lot tarmak, at the same time she severed my spine with the same golf club; both on November 14, 2013; the FBI investigation into my son's murder and my being crippled has gone on now for 13 years, a few weeks away from 14 years now, and the FBI has still not identified the killer or her motive). Contrary to popular misconception, quadriplegic does NOT mean ZERO movement, it means means limited movement, specifically in means unable to lift arms over head, unable to grip fingers around objects to pick them up, and unable to stand for more then 5 minutes to a time. Because there are so many thousands of nerves in each limb it is actually very rare for there to be 100% no movement, but how much, and to what extent varies by patent depending upon the specific point of injury to the spinal column.

Meaning typing is still possible for over 60% of all quadriplegics.

In my case, it was the lower spine that was severed, cutting off completly my ability to move my right leg, leaving limited feeling in my left leg, and an ability to stand but not walk, with crutches, for the first 9 years. I regained enough nerve growth in my legs by the 9th year to be able to take ten or twelve steps allowing me to get out of bed for the first time since the golf club attack; This in turn lead to me being able to start using a wheelchair, as I was able to sit upright for the first time as well.

Because the shattered vertebrae bone fragments are broken off completly and embedded into the nerve bundle just above my tailbone, doctors were saying I would never walk again, but now at 13 years, I am able to push mu wheelchair like a walker, a distance of almost a thousand steps a day. Though doctors are still doubtful I will ever walk "normally" again, I have proven them wrong, when their said 13 years ago, that I would never walk again at all.

But because of the placement of the damage to my spine, regaining hand use, was always thought possible, it was just a matter of waiting long enough for nerve regrowth, along side daily finger exercises. I was able to continue writing, after becoming quadriplegic, because I still have use of my right thumb, and 2 fore figures of my right hand. And can type 90 words per minute with those 3 fingers.

I however have no wrist strength, elbow strength, or shoulder strength, so I am not able to form a fist, or lift objects, or brush my hair, or my teeth, all thing I have to have my caretaker do. But, those things are not needed for typing. Unfortunately, my pinky and ring fingers are "nerve dead" and drag over the keyboard, and cause horrific spelling errors and typos, which are incredibly frustrating to deal with.

Unfortunately trying to edit errors myself, just makes the errors worse, because those same two fingers drag over the keyboard yet again. Prior to the golf club attack, I rarely had spelling errors; now I got more spelling errors then someone is learning English as second language. Editing is a challenge, that I've had to accept, I simply can not do myself, and I have to hire several editors to help with that.

Low verbal means sounds can still be made, sounds that software programs like Dragon can be trained to recognize and translate, and type into full words. More then half my novels were typed with this method.

I still have a long ways to go before I am anything close to being able to do the things I could do before the golf club woman beat my baby's brains out and shattered my spine. And you know what's more frustrating then how slow mu medical progression has been? The fact that it's been 13 years and the police and FBI are still coming up at dead ends as to who the woman who murdered my baby was, or why she even did it.

My son's 14th birthday is only a few weeks away, but he didn't even get to live long enough to celebrate his 1st birthday, I don't even know why. And I can't wait to regain my ability to walk again, because regaining my ability to walk, means gaining the ability to go outside and start looking for my son's murderer myself instead of sitting at home trapped in a wheelchair waiting for the police and FBI to to find her. So, writing isn't a big priority for me anymore. I only write now, as a way to exercise my hands, in between relearning to walk.

Never let a disability stop you. Plenty of writers, artists, athletes, do not let either blindness, speech impediments, or limited mobility hold then back from perusing their careers.

Do you know who these two woman who crippled me and murdered my baby, at Southern Maine Community College at 10PM on November 14, 2013, are, and what their connection to the backhoe that drove over my house is? If you have any information, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.

More information about the backhoe attack, my son's murder, my becoming crippled, my becoming homeless, and the FBI investigation around all of it, can be found here.

Important:

Fraudulent sites are impersonating Wendy Christine Allen.

• The ONLY official website for Wendy Christine Allen is www.eelkat.com

Fraudulent social media accounts, particularly on Reddit and FaceBook are impersonating Wendy Christine Allen.

• The ONLY official social media accounts for Wendy Christine Allen are listed in the footer here at www.eelkat.com

Find Me on Social Media:

• Amazon: Author Central

• Amazon: Quaraun Series Index

• Ao3

• Blogger

• CafePress

• DeviantArt

• FaceBook (Profile)

• FictionPress

• Gravatar

• GumRoad

• Itch.io

• Lemon8

• LinkedIn

• Medium

• MySpace

• NextDoor

• Notd

• OnlyFans

• PayHip

• PayPal

• Pinterest

• Reddit 1 (Primary)

• Reddit 2 (Alt; Archived)

• SpoonFlower

• TikTok

• Tumblr

• Twitch

• Twitter (X)

• Vocal

• WordPress

• YouTube

• YouTube Shorts

• Zazzle: My Art

• Zazzle: Quaraun Merch

Any websites and accounts you find online that are NOT on this list are NOT Wendy Christine Allen

All the writing prompts found here on my website, are also available in printed paperback editions, on Amazon.

There are no ebook editions as they are already available digitally here on my website.

The Park Bench Method of Writing 100+ Cozy Fantasy Writing Prompts for NaNoWriMo & NovNov 2025 Finding Your Character’s Goal Through Mundane Moments (Character Creation & Development - NaNoWriMo & NovNov 2025) --with 500+ Writing Prompts! 30 Cozy Fantasy Writing Prompts - June 2025 - 30 Day Edition 30 Cozy Fantasy Writing Prompts, Queer Throuples/Polycules Slice of Life Edition 30 "TRUE COZY" Cozy Fantasy Writing Prompts 🫖 30 More Cozy Fantasy Writing Prompts - June 2025 Writing Character Driven Flash Fiction for NaNoWriMo & NovNov 2025 -with 90 Cozy Fantasy Slice of Life Writing Prompts A shit ton load of daily writing prompts and writing dares to use for National Novel Writing Month, 2025 edition! For the people who had been asking where to find them, the Print Paperback editions of the writing prompts found on my website are available HERE. What's New (Newly Published or Recently Updated or Edited) NaNoWriMo (Now NovNov) Annual October Prep - 2026 Edition (22 years!) Oct 23, 26 03:51 PM NaNoWriMo (Now NovNov) Annual October Prep - 2026 Edition (22 years!) Read More Currency in a zombie apocalypse or The economy of Vesonta Oct 23, 26 12:03 PM Currency in a zombie apocalypse or How does the economy of Vesonta work? or Do the UnSeelie Court use money? Read More What makes a wizard a wizard? Oct 22, 26 04:42 PM What makes a wizard a wizard? Character Creation and Worldbuilding lore Read More Vampires - a look at Vampirism in The Adventures of Quaraun the Insane Oct 21, 26 11:50 AM Vampires - a look at Vampirism in The Adventures of Quaraun the Insane/The Pink Necromancer series Read More Is Quaraun gay? | Quaraun FAQs Oct 14, 26 02:59 PM Is Quaraun gay? Is The Pink Necromancer transgender? | Answering readers FAQs about Quaraun the Insane Read More Wendy C Allen: Old Orchard Beach & Biddeford Maine Dark Fantasy Author Oct 10, 26 05:58 AM Official Home Page Of Wendy C Allen: Old Orchard Beach & Biddeford, Maine's Autistic Artist, Doll Designer, Art Car Builder, and Dark Fantasy MPreg Author Read More How Did The FBI Get Involved? Oct 05, 26 10:46 PM How Did The FBI Get Involved? Read More But is it Omega Verse? Sep 30, 26 11:11 PM Readers have suggested my Quaraun series is Omegaverse... let's find out if it is or not Read More Who is Tod Murphy? (updated for Christmas Eve attack 2025) Sep 27, 26 10:49 PM Who is Tod Murphy? (updated for Christmas Eve attack 2025) Read More Phookas Sep 25, 26 02:46 PM Everything you could ever want to know about phookas Read More ChatGPT Command Prompts For Fantasy Writers Sep 16, 26 04:27 PM Asking ChatGPT To Create Its Own Command Prompts For Fantasy Writers Read More The Egg Question: A Pink Necromancer Short Story Aug 06, 26 08:42 PM After a long day of killing Humans, The UnSeelie Court's pregnant mage contemplates why having sex with the Dragon King does not result in laying Dragon Eggs. Read More Fish, Eels, Storyland, Autism, Becoming a Published Author, Art Cars Jul 30, 26 09:16 AM Fish, Eels, Storyland, Autism, Becoming a Published Author, and Art Cars; a long and varied conversation with ChatGPT5.6 Read More The Cat at the Sea Cave Jul 29, 26 10:02 AM A Pink Necromancer story poem Read More My Elves Are JellyFish Jul 13, 26 01:38 PM My Elves Are JellyFish, and I asked for thoughts from Google vs ChatGPT Read More The Three-Seventeen Pee Expedition Jun 16, 26 02:33 PM The Three-Seventeen Pee Expedition: A Pink Necromancer Short Story Read More Why I Write (Some Thoughts on Living With Autism) Jun 10, 26 10:45 AM Why I Write (Some Thoughts on Living With Autism) and a look at the history of 144 and 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine Read More How Much Money Do Self-Published Authors Make Jun 08, 26 08:26 PM A Look at How Much Money A Million Books Sold Is Equal To - How Much Money Do Self-Published Authors Make Read More 146 Portland Ave Old Orchard Beach, Maine, FBI Murder Investigation Jun 08, 26 08:20 PM 146 Portland Ave Old Orchard Beach, Maine, FBI Murder Investigation; How Did The FBI Get Involved? Read More The Quaraun Series Prologue May 20, 26 03:11 PM The Quaraun Series Prologue Read More An Introduction to The Pink Necromancer Series May 17, 26 04:47 PM An Introduction to The Pink Necromancer Series: The Adventures of Quaraun the Insane Read More No, Disabled People Do Not Exist To Inspire You May 14, 26 11:01 PM Yes, it is offensive to write disabled characters to act as inspiration to others. or how to write disabled characters accurately Read More Murder Investigation Updates, Old Orchard Beach, Maine May 11, 26 12:25 PM Murder Investigation Updates, Old Orchard Beach, Maine Read More The FBI murder investigation 144 & 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach May 06, 26 07:05 PM The FBI murder investigation of 144 & 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine - Everything we are allowed to publically release Read More Thoughts on Reborn Therapy Dolls After My Son's Murder Apr 15, 26 06:29 AM My 8 month old son was murdered; Thoughts on Reborn Therapy Dolls After My Son's Murder Read More Addressing victim blaming in murder investigations Mar 13, 26 09:40 PM Addressing victim blaming in murder investigations Read More The Tussah Day Serenade Feb 16, 26 07:44 AM The Tussah Day Serenade, a fiction short story poem - LGBTQAI+ FICTION | The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane | TransMan MC | Read More Ghosts Beneath the Pink Silk Tent Feb 11, 26 05:11 AM Ghosts Beneath the Pink Silk Tent Read More An Existential Crisis Feb 11, 26 05:09 AM An Existential Crisis 🌸{A Pink Necromancer Triple Drabble} 🦄🌸 Read More The Moon Goddess Laughs From The Rooftops Feb 11, 26 05:05 AM The Moon Goddess Laughs From The Rooftops Read More 10 Years of Injustice: Tackling Radical Church Extremism Feb 11, 26 04:29 AM 10 Years of Injustice: Tackling Radical Church Extremism Read More Don't Be A Stalker Feb 10, 26 09:14 PM Don't be a stalker Read More IMPORTANT NOTE: All the writing prompts found here on my website, are also available in printed paperback editions, on Amazon. There are no ebook editions as they are already available digitally here on my website. January February 2026 Updates If you are one of (as of December 2025, the now more than ten thousand) daily visitors, who arrive here daily in search of SEO advice, I made this page for you: My response to the alarming spike in traffic to my "SEO" pages. aka I am getting Weird Spike In Google Traffic For SEO & Content Writing & Marketing keywords and search terms even though this is a Yaoi and Gay Romance website that has absolutely nothing to do with SEO or Content Writing or Content Marketing What the fuck? The Park Bench Method of Writing Receiving death threats over a septic tank and a little brown log cabin, but I own neither a septic tank nor a little brown log cabin... what even are these thugs talking about? I am a mute/none verbal wheelchair user and I just had an encounter over my wheelchair, but being mute had no way to defend myself. Crazy Woman Just Attacked - No Clue Why or Who She Is (August 14, 2025) Articles For Writers on How To Write & Publish A Rapid Release  Series Want to write like I do? You want this page: Writing Mindset Shift & Lester Dent vs Kishotenketsu w/Thoughts on Being one of Dr. Lindstrom's 200 PenPal Students (NaNoWriMo & NovNov 2025) plus Polyamory Beyond Fetish: Writing Multi-Partner Relationships and Writing Blind Characters Plus Elves and Very High, High Elves  VS Unicorns and Phookas and Demons and also What exactly makes an Elf an Elf? (What is the definition of an Elf?) but Noses, Penis Piercings, And Rapunzel Hair and Need Help Defeating Overpowered Fantasy Wizards? + Wizards and More Wizards and Even More Wizards and Still More wizards and MAKE VILLAINS EVIL AGAIN: A WRITER’S BATTLE CRY TO RECLAIM THE DARK SIDE Have you ever considered: How Things In Your Life Affect Your Writing or Currency In Worldbuilding and The Dangers of World Travel or  Dragging a Body Through The Snow and Talking While Falling Asleep or Worldbuilding MoonQuakes and Disabled Characters for Fantasy Writers or I have everything but the kitchen sink... wait, how'd that kitchen sink get in my pocket? Writing Absurdist Fantasy Books but How long does it take to reach 1667 words? and 50k in one day - is it possible? plus What is the average typing speed? plus What (self-publishing) platform pays the most (for books)? My top 3 picks. Comparing my results from different places. and Knowing what to include when describing the surroundings of a scene also Validation Is a Cult and Open Strong, Stay Loud and  Where are the writers who love writing? plus Self-Publishing Success: Does Anyone Ever Succeed at Self-Publishing? and Where To Get Writing Ideas? and Writing What You Know Might Not Be What You Think It Is and Why I do not attend writing groups...are they all like this or just the ones in Maine? but also Don't Forget To Just Write  because Yes, You Can! Plus The Park Bench Method of Writing (with 10k writing prompt list) or The Park Bench Method of Writing (just the article) plus: How did you build your audience? Not online, that's for sure. aka How to sell ten million books aka How I sold ten million books. Need Writing Prompts? For Anyone Looking for: The "haunted car" people call The GoldenEagle & my response to Stephen King's illegally filming my family and farm in his movies? My response to MUFON's Amphibious Aliens? My response to Coast to Coast AMs Arrival in my yard? Back to the Home Page Wendy Christine Allen, Old Orchard Beach's Autistic Author, Artist, Illustrator, & Art Car Designer Counting Down to the 2028 50th Anniversary of my first published book (September 23, 1978) Yes, I am aware there are a lot of spelling errors on this site. No, I likely will not be fixing most of them. I have been quadriplegia/paralyzed arms and legs since November 14, 2013; As of 2026, I have regained use of two fully functional fingers on my right hand, and only stiff limited movement of all remained eight fingers. This causes most of the typos and spelling errors as my near-dead pinky and ring fingers tend to drag over the other letters on the keyboard. Attempts to correct errors, often causes more errors for the same reason. Much of my writing is also speech to text, but I have "profound low functioning, non-verbal kanner's syndrome aka autism aka the rainman type" (that is what the medical diagnosis called it), I have the medically diagnosed retarded type of autism, that medical doctors mean when they say "real and actual autism", I do not have the cool trend self diagnoses tiktok type of "autism". What this means is, in spite of five decades of trying, I have very limited vocal speaking abilities and a lower then average vocabulary, that leaves my speaking ability around the level of a 4 or 5 year old child; I do not know math or money or clocks and. I also, was raised by a Shetland Scottish Grandmother (Helen Ricker Allen) until her death when I was 8 years old, and she did not speak American, she spoke Shetland/Scottish, Shetlandic, which is a Nordic language, different from Scotts Language, not related to Gaelic which is what many Scottish speak, and while classified as a type of Scottish English is is considered "Olde medieval Norse" dialect of Scottish English and spoken by fewer then two thousand people as of 2026. It is the language of Scottish Travelling Gypsies, which is what we racial are. I was 31 years old first time I ever heard American English, and only started to learn American English at 42 years old. Right now in 2026 at 51 years old, I am able to speak American English on around the level of an 8 year old child, and greatly do not understand over 90% of American words, American slang, and American media references. What this means is, OFTEN words you think are spellt wrong (like color vs colour, or traveling vs travelling, are in fact NOT spelt wrong, because I use Scottish spellings) and often when I hear an American word, I spell it phonetically because I do not know the correct American spelling. Likewise we Scottish do not have words like my or your, and so say me and you, in places where Americans would say my and your.  I also use Scottish word meanings, not American word meanings, for example Unicorn means a blood thirsty flesheating shapeshifting sea creature that comes on land and pretends to be a wounded horse to lure in humans to eat, it can only be captured by a virgin. But when I say Unicorn, a word I frequently use, because I write Unicorn folkloric short stories... I find that most Americans connect Unicorns to children's cartoons, gay pride, or swinging sex lives... I struggle to understand who in their right mind thought the most bloodthirsty monster of Scotland folklore was good fodder for children's cartoons or "sex positive" mascots, me thinks Americans need to brush up on the lore of Unicorns using their horns as sword to stabbed people's eyes out, while gallopping through swamps with rows of bloody Human heads hanging from their backs via braids made of Human entrails... really, why did Americans thinks a monster like a Unicorn was fit for children's cartoons or sex positivity? Americans is weird. All this to say... speech to text software, struggles badly with my thick Shetland accent, my slurred Autism speech impediment, and causes additional misspellings and typos because it can not figure out what words I am trying to say. And while I could take the time time to run all of it through a spell checker, that does require better hand mobility then I have, to copy the text from one program to the next and manually click each word, with finger mobility that I simply do not have, but also, most of my time is spent in trying to relearn to walk, and if you are local, you've probably seen this as I'm a stubborn bitch who refused to accept the doctor disnosis that I will never walk again, so, I walk around the block every day pushing my wheelchair, refusing to sit in my wheelchair, and... ...it's taking me 13 years to do it, but, I'm not actually able to stand up and make it all the way around the block now, and my focus on trying to relearn to walk is far more important to me, then catering to your pampered arse by fixing spelling errors, when there are far bigger problems to worry about in life, the spelling errors made by a quadriplegic who is typing this with her only two functioning fingers. Also, in recent years, I've watched the internet devolve into a mindless clusterfuck of ChatGPT written everything. Everyone sounds the same online these days, because no writes their own work anymore. Every website out there has become a carbon copy of each other, because they are all be written by ChatGPT now. I think ChatGPT makes a funny thing to chat with in your spare time, so you can laugh at the hilarity of how inaccurate it's responses are... but I am horrified that people are using AI for serious writing, writing they publish and try to pass off as their own. We live in a society where people people are forgetting how write. Heck I can read and write cursive, calligraphy, italic, short hand, and editor's marks, also edit my books by hand diagraming every sentence, and that... start walking around your neighbourhood and ask anyone under 30 if they sentence diagraming IS, let alone how to do it. So yes, I CAN spell check, and no I don't, for anything but my novels and short story collections, I spell check when it matters... and this is a website, not a printed book... but also, I am just getting so damn fucking fed up with endless AI writing online, so, no, I'm not going to fix errors and typos on my website, and you can bitch about that all you want (yes, I do get your messages, I just don't answer anyone in private) but, honey, maybe instead of bitching over my spelling errors, be thankful is still at least one website on the internet that still being written by a Human now in 2026 when ChatGPT writes over 70% of all posts online.

Looking for my annual NaNoWriMo Prompts and Dares? I've been publishing these every year since 2004! Here's,for my 26th year, a shit ton load of daily writing prompts and writing dares to use for National Novel Writing Month, 2025 edition! The Park Bench Method of Writing The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane: Paperpacks & Hardcover Editions on Amazon: Not sure what the series is about?  Check out  The Quaraun Series Prologue and Faeries vs Elves (In The Quaraun Series) A Pink Necromancer World Lore Post and Worldbuilding MoonQuakes and Disabled Characters for Fantasy Writers and How well do I know Quaraun? - Let's find out! to find out more about the plot and lore of the series. Not sure which story to start with? These here are good places to start, to get a good introduction to the three main characters: Absinthe Slushies: An Ode to Frozen Green Fairy Wine Bone Dice BoomFuzzy's Chowder Dilemma The Cellar's Forgotten Treasure Chaos in The Lighthouse - Shattered Panes, Shattered Minds The Cliff-Side Temple Control or Protection? A Dark and Stormy Night Drying Herbs Excited For The New Baby Five Ways To Save Money in Las Vegas The Golden Dragon Keys Herons in the Dunes If your ass ain’t freezing or your brains ain’t scrambled, you’re ain’t really trying Kiss Me Fuckin' Arse - Just Another Day in the Ice-Laced Ruins of The GodForsaken City Lens and Light Maintenance Macaroni and Cheese: A Creamy Pasta Dish Drenched in Melted Cheese, Often Topped with Breadcrumbs- It's Never That Easy A Map Worth More Than Gold The Morning After a Night of Teaching Wizards To Gather Magic With Cards Necromancer of the Parched Sands in the Desert of Diona Necromancy-A Day in the Life of a Bumbling Necromancer-Again Nightmare Nook Paddlewheel Maintenance The Phooka's Dragon School The Red Hakama Springtime by the River Spirit-Walk Slippers Sticky Rice, Bare Fingers, and Slippery Chopsticks The Sweet and Sour of Lemons The Terror Bird 3 Perspectives on an Apple The Valuable Mystery of the Talking Saloon Door and How We Nearly Got Shot Over Stale Tacos Vendetta over Vittles A Very Important Clump of Grass Wagers and Wiles in the Godforsaken City The Washer Woman & The Fae Weather Forecasting Stones You Never Know What Info You Might Pick Up in the Afterlife aka Quaraun's Near Death Experience (A NDE Fiction) Or if after reading those, you still are looking for more free to read stories, there are over three thousand of them on this site, too many to list here, but here a few dozen to get you started... ...you can just jump in and try reading some of the free to read online stories first before committing to buying the books: Abyssal Addlepated: Stupid and Confused All the roads are gone Alone Ancient Coin Hoard Unearthed Angry Ocean Waves at Sunset The Arrival The Art of Destroying a Human Village for Fun and Profit At the High Priest's Altar Back At The Tavern and Still No Shrimp The Bandits and the Pink Necromancer The Banshee Sisters: Bean-Nighe and Ben-Neeyah In the Swamp of Death The Beacon Room at the Top of the Black Tower Lighthouse The Beauty of a Silk Moth Hatching The Beginning of the End Bellicose: Warlike! Aggressive! Hostile! Beneath a crimson sky, the silk weaver wove pink silk. Beneath Malevolent Stars The Black Sock, Again Blizzard The Boat Fiasco The Book Burning Maggots, a You Can't Spell Hatred Without Red Hats BoomFuzzy's Gingerbread House from Hell The Brownies & The Witch, or Why Faeries Don’t Wear Socks The Bumbling Pursuit of The Pink Necromancer Candied Nightmares The Candle Con in Ember Hollow The Candy Corn Unicorn Captured By The Lich Lord The Cast Iron Frying Pan Cattail Pollen Spaghetti with Wild "Oregano" A Chilly Light Drizzle Becomes Snowfall on the Shore Chocolate Bliss Chocolate in the Neon Shadows Christmas in 40th Century Dystopia Christmas With The Krampus Family The City of Death Clam Digging in the Rain The Clock Ticks Away Clotheslines, Games, and the Village Code Ghosts Comet Fall Snow Day Blitz Conundrum in the Bazaar Corsets, Elves, and Undead Faeries Crabapples in the Rain Cranberry Muffins The Crooked Dice The Crows Are Restless Crullers and Curses at Midnight The Curse of the Liquid Gold The Cursed Mirror Dangerous Tides {A Pink Necromancer Drabble Dozen, featuring Etiole} Dark Damp Basement A Day At Witch Pond & Fleeing To The Forest Deadly Shores of Noodle Beach The Demon Cultists and The Coming of The Darkness The Demonic Music Box Desolate Nostalgia on a Frozen Shoreline The Diamond Forest in the Bio Dome The Disbelief of Humans Discovering A Floating Castle Dismal Day at the Street Market The Doors' Dark Secret - A Wedding In A Zombie Apocalypse Dreams of Purple Pearls The Drunk Moon Elf Echoes of the Glass Forest Echoes of the Unseen An Eclipse in the Faerie Glen An Eclipse Looms Tonight An Eerie Discovery Eerie Symbols in the Snow The Egg That Was Not an Egg The Elf With Crippled Hands Ember Enable The Enchanted Map Encountering ghostly apparitions in the swamp Evil Eggplants Stalking Outside Evil McEvil of The Twirly Moustache Existential Crisis Perspectives - 3 Perspectives on an Existential Crisis Exploring the Swamp's Forgotten River A Fall in the River A Field of Poppies On The Road To Witch Pond 15 Drabbles About Being Transgender The First Flicker of Dawn Fishing in the Rain Five Ways To Save Money in Las Vegas Fizzy and Frigid A Flapdoodle Wizard’s Duel Fleeced for Fizz Fog & Peach Melba Toast After Last Night's Rain Footprints In The Sand Forest Kings and Their Antler Crowns The Fragrant Smoke of Flavoured Herbs Freshly Baked Sugar Cookies The Frilly Nest of Panic A Garden of Pink Chrysanthemums Get your hands off my dress! GhoulSpawn & The Cultists GhoulSpawn Said The Moon Don’t Laugh GhoulSpawn's Toasted Marshmallow Magic A Glass of Fresh Milk Gloom Blob of Doom: The Dreadful Dripping of the Doom Blob of Gloom Glumpish, Grumpy, Sullen, Gloomy Golden Field, Pink Glories The Golden Mask The Graveyard That Ate the Living The Great UnSeelie Court Swindlers He Always Comes Back Heirloom Tomatoes Help! He's trying to feed me! The Herd Approaches The Howl on Silent Moor How to Create a Literary Empire with Just Your Bum Poems How To Kill a Lich How to Hijack a Human Supply Train Without Getting Shot How to Overthrow an Entire Settlement Without So Much as Lifting a Finger I Need To Feel Safe Ignoramus — An Utterly Ignorant Crowd of Humans IkuTursu's Cursed Depths of the Swamp Where Pine Boughs Whisper Incandescent Shadows Over Driftwood Bay The Infected Survivor Inner Fortitude Insidious Love Invigorating Cool Air Iron Hooves and Burning Roads, Krampus on Wheels The Ivory Tower of Greed The Jar of Pickled Toes Jibber Jabber Ramblings by the Fire The Jolly Red Lich King Journey Through the Zombie-Infested Swamp on the Blue Monkey Judgement An Ode To The Lunatics Preaching The Rapture of September'25 Kelim and The Necromancer: Finding Finderu Kelim Meets Quaraun The Insane Lanterns Over the Faerie Glen Leaving Your Bed Messy Isn't Exactly the Apocalypse The Leprechaun of The Deep North A Lich's Lament For a Mortal Lover Growing Old A Lich's Reflections On Escaping The Swamp of Death The Lich's True Form Revealed The Lighthouse’s Glass-Eyed Horror The Lighthouse Keeper The Lighthouse That Leapt, Space Dock 13's First Jump Through Space The Long Road The Loot Tree Lord of the Hive Lost In The Forest of No Return-Trying To Find Directions The Lost Library and The Snowglobe The Lotus' Silent Prayer on the Sandy Shoreline Lover's Triangle Make tea and go for a rainy forest walk Maple Cotton Candy Served as a Topping on Vanilla Ice Cream A Market Day Disaster Market Day Weekend - Three Days In The Life of The Pink Necromancer Marsh Serenity Reflection Mayonnaise Meeting Mallac Melt, Ya Safe With Me The MerMan's Wrath Milkweed Meadow Mint, Madness, and Motor Parts The Mischief of the Purple Unicorn Misplaced Utensils and the Cascade of Confusion Monsters & Mayhem: How Black Tower Became Pink (8+ Parts) The Moon and The Drowned The Moon Goddess Laughs From The Rooftops The Moon That Hungers The Moon and The Mirror Morning Sickness at The Shattered Stein (TW: MPreg Yaoi) A Mysterious Door No Goldfish, Today? No Place for Birth The Noodle of Power Not Little Red Riding Hood Obsessive Love-Dangerous Love An Ode to My Shattered Sanity Ominous One River In Three Perspectives Open Grave An Ordinary Day A Path of Twisted Trees A Peaceful Night on the Tundra The Peaceful Shores of Noodle Beach Phantom Tides Pickling Perfection Pickles, Panic, & Permafrost The Picnic Pink Marabou Trimmed Rainbow Leg Warmers, a Purple Feathered Black Leather Codpiece, and an Emerald Green Overly Fluffy Scarf The Pink Necromancer's Deceitful Carpet Weave Pink Sheep, Cheesy Burritos, and The Grim Reality of Zombies Pliable Clay on the Potter's Wheel Pocket Lich Unleashed: Quaraun Murders Finderu Preparations for the Street Market of the GodForsaken City Psychotic Dead Things Quaraun's Beauty Makeovers Quaraun's Candle Business Quaraun's Irritable Day Quaraun and The Wandering Turtle City Quarreling Over the Last Slice of Pizza A Quiet Day on The Blue Monkey The Quiet Evening in the Pink Silk Tent A Quiet Evening In The Rain A Quiet Night on The River A Quiet Place To Sweep A Quiet, Relaxing Foot Rub The Rain-Drenched Alley Raining Cats & Dogs Readers vs Readers, What Really Makes a Reader, a Reader? Remove! The Return of ZooLock The River Boat Man-Woman The Sacred Pink Secret (TW: Mpreg Yaoi) Safety and Emergency System Activated. Please Being Calm Santa's Floating Dead Body Santa's Letter To Satan The Screaming Contest The Seagull Sea Slugs and Clam Chowder Bread Bowls Secret Meeting Hidden Behind Closed Doors Shadows on the Clam Flats Shipyard at Dusk The Silence of the Unseen Silks in the Snow The Singing Crabgrass Crabs — A Green Fairy Wine Tale A Sinister-Looking Stone Well Six Days Earlier The Snake's Prophecy of Doom Upon The Fractured Moon A Solitary Black Sock Spinning Dreams in Silk The Soul Eater Spacious Space Spooky Scary Skeletons - A Graveyard Waltz Stillness in the Garden's Chaos Stone Cakes for the Road Survival Preppers Of The Zombie Apocalypse The Swamp of Death The Tavern in the Faraway Town The Temple City of The Green Goddess, Where Every Street Has a Name The Terrifying Cliffs of Noodle Beach, featuring Etiole That Afternoon When Quaraun Got Stuck In a Crab Trap That Big Bad Darkness in His Heart A Threatening Letter Too Busy Cooking Lemon Tarts Toobe's Well-Prompted Apocalypse (A ChatBot Plans Global Domination) The Trade Caravan A Tumble In The River The Vacuous Tavern Fool Waiter, There's A Head In My Soup Wandering Merchant: The Trader’s Cryptic Goods (Part 2 of ShipYard At Dusk) What I Wish I Knew Before Not Becoming an Astrophysicist When a Government Tries to Cover Its Crimes Why the Sea is Salt A Winter Wizard Wishing For Lobster Rolls-Never Make Wishes In The Presence of Wizards WORMS! Wrath of the Sacred Pink JellyFish Yelling at the Snowstorm You've Only Known Our World Through The Eyes of a Madman You trust that nonsense over a map? Zombies Are Not the Worst Thing Here {TW: Love fucking wins} Zwodder: A Drowsy Stupid State of Mind Hmmm... soooo... I was making the above list to ALL the links to EVERY Quaraun story published on my website here, and adding it into the footer of my site, here as you can see, which loads on every page, and then I realized... wait... there are over two thousand Pink Necromancer stories up free to read on my website, I can't put two thousand links on every single page! Whoops! LOL! So, now I'm putting list to ALL the links to EVERY Quaraun story published on my website here on this page instead and just link that page to the footer instead. But also I'll just leave some of the links in the footer, as you can see above. FacebookXPinterestTumblrRedditWhatsApp ShareFacebookXPinterestTumblrRedditWhatsApp The Park Bench Method of Writing

The Park Bench Method of Writing

IMPORTANT NOTE:

All the writing prompts found here on my website, are also available in printed paperback editions, on Amazon.

There are no ebook editions as they are already available digitally here on my website.

Want even more writing prompts?

If anyone contacts you saying 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, is for sale, know that they are lying to you... it is my land, and it has been in my family since 1531... and the ONLY person whom has EVER gone around saying it is for sale, is a woman who the FBI believes to be the same woman who murdered my son.

My son is buried here, and the FBI believes she is trying to buy my land in order to destroy his grave and destroy evidence of his murder.

Since my son's murder November 14, 2013, every year dozens of real estate agent show up all with a story of a female developer who is offering them MILLIONS of dollars for my lot of land that is only 1/4 of an acre and is not big enough to develop.

When shown police sketches of my son's murderer, the real estate agents say "Yes, that's the woman who hired me to buy 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine", but then the woman disappears and the real estate agents never hear from her again... all contact information she gave them turns out to be fake.

The woman who murdered my son, is DESPERATELY trying to buy 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine... this is the woman to watch out for... and this is what she did:

Looking to find out more about my son's murder, that information is on these pages:

• How did the FBI get involved?

• Never Forget my son was murdered

• Do you know who this woman is? And no 146 Portland Ave is not for sale.

• Thoughts on Reborn Therapy Dolls After My Son's Murder

Answering the questions:
Can you give me links to the news reports of your son's murder? 
and
Why can't I find any news reports about this?

Maine has well over a thousand murder cases that have never been in the news.

I found this out after my son was murdered November 2013, and a year later I found out it had never been in the news, even though I was hounded for weeks by news people. I went to each of the over a dozen TV stations and newspapers whom had showed up at the hospital and asked why they had never published any report after all the trouble they had gone through to (in some cases illegally) het into the hospital to interview me.

in every case they said some version of "well, it just wasn't news worthy, there was nothing we could use to get views". Really? These were big news stations, channel 13, 6, 8, Portland Press Herald, Bangor Daily...

What exactly was it they claimed was "not news worthy"?

I'll tell you.

On November 14, 2013, my son was murdered. At Southern Maine Community College in the parking lot of The Buglight Art Studio beside the Spring Point Lighthouse.

I was 8 months pregnant, leaving my college classroom, and just getting into my car, when 3 strangers, a man and two women, armed with golf clubs leapt out from behind my car screaming "kill or be killed, kill the transvestite freaks, kill them all before they kill us! look at that thing! That is Ken's son, look at how it's dressed! kill the transvestite freaks! kill or be killed"... while the bald man and the red haired woman chanted this over and over, the blonde woman, lunged with the golf club.

She severed my spine, I am now a quadriplegic, and been paralyzed arms and legs, and in a wheelchair for 13 years now. She broke my hips, my knees, my legs, ruptured most of my discs, and shattered three of my vertebrae so bad that the shards of bone acted like glass and embedded themselves into my spinal column nerve bundle.

The attack also triggered labour.

My son was born in that parking lot, and he lived only a couple of minutes, before the deranged blonde woman, beat his head in and smashed his brains out, with the same golfclub she had just used to sever my spine and leave me crippled for the rest of my life.

Realizing that I was not transgender, and they'd just murdered a baby, the man grabbed the 2 women and forcibly dragged them away to a 4 door white pickup truck, and they left me there to die.

The FBI told me later, that a few weeks before this attack, and transwoman, had murdered a cis woman, in a parking lot, abou 20 miles away from where I was attacked. The FBI, believes that my attackers, had somehow found out I wrote transgender fiction, connecting my real name to my penname, (my father's name is in fact "Ken", and I do have a brother) and believed that I wrote transgender fiction, because I was myself transgender, even though I'm not transgender. The FBI, believes the attackers, thought I was my brother, pretending to be a woman.

The FBI investigation, into my son's murder, has dragged on for 13 years, and still now in 2026, continues on, with the FBI, still not having yet identified my attackers, and only guessing at what their motive was.

Oh yeah, and I've been quadriplegic for 13 years.

oh yeah one more thing, same trio, they also found out where i lived in Old Orchard Beach and drove a backhoe over my house as well.

146 Portland Ave Old Orchard Beach, Maine... July 4, 2013 vs August 8, 2013

I have been homeless and quadriplegic for 13 years, and right now it's just a few weeks away from both my son's 14th birthday and the 14th anniversary of the day he was murdered, both of which happened the same day.

Explain to me what about any of that is "not newsworthy"?

I did find out WHY it was deemed not newsworthy. "it would negatively impact tourism" was their reason. The College at Fort Prebble is a tourist destination. The lighthouse at the college is a tourist destination. My house on Portland ave is situated on the primary road to the beach that is a tourist destination.

The news reporters explained to me that, they risked losing their jobs if they publicised "negative news" occurring in these sorts of tourist destination spots.

My son's murder wasn't in the news, because it might cause tourists to stop visiting that lighthouse. That was the reason the reporters gave me.

How often are there things not being reported on just so businesses don't lose tourist money?

How often does this happen? A lot, I've since found out. In trying to find other mothers of murdered children to interact with... I found five others JUST in Old Orchard Beach, whom the murders were not in the news, and all of them happened after my son's murder. I found 2 such mothers in Scarbourogh, their children's murders not in the news. I found over a dozen more in the Bar Harbore area, also all not in the news.

It's a very disturbing trend here in Maine, one that I never would have found out about had my own son not been murdered.

One thing's very clear: in Maine you can get away with murdering a child, if you do it in a big tourist location, because news stations REFUSE to report any crime occurring in tourist locations.

Fuck torists.

I don't give a shit about your precious tourist money.

My son was murdered and I want his killer found... and I am VERY displeased with the deplorable way news stations try to bury child murders in Maine, just to appease tourist funded businesses.

Copyright © – oldest articles written 1978, website founded - 1996

This website is a safe zone for LGBTQAI+, pagans, and BIOPIC communities.

This website is a safe zone for LGBTQAI+, pagans, polys, trans, neurodivergent, disabled, mobile aid user, minority, cosplayers, otherkin, furries, & BIOPIC communities.