Happy 2026!
It is our 30th anniversary here at Space Dock 13!
On the web since 1996!
You have encountered an extremely old website that continues to exist in old web ways, the same way it has done for now three decades.
In spite of being now 30 years old this year, started in 1996, it is still heavily active and old pages updated daily, new pages added daily, still now in 2026. All hand written, all hand coded (no AI), all by me, same as it ever was.
We Still Exist: The Old Web Did Not Go Away, You Just Forgot How To Find Us
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This site was NOT designed for mobile devices (as they had not been invented yet when I created it) thus this site looks best on a computer, at 1280x768 or above. |
This is a very old website created in 1996, so, yes, javascript is needed for the site to work as it should. If things don't function, you may need to update javascript drivers on your device |
This site tries to be mobile friendly but it's been online since 1996, so old pages may not load right on mobile devices, and as this site has had pages added near daily for 30 years there are now over 20k pages here. |
Having started out in life as a GeoCities site, this site contains glitter, bright colours, blinkies, moving gifs, and other things the old web was known for. |


Please Note: The Quaraun Series Is Rated M18+ and you must be 18 or older to buy it.
Most pages on EelKat.com are about writing Yaoi, and thus probably is NSFW; reader discretion is advised.
Why is the Quaraun Series Rated M18+?

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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:
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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.
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.
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.
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Update Sept 3, 2026:
I am able to get around enough to take Koko to dog park... today is 29 days since getting out of hospital. My diet is still mostly liquid, but im eating some solid food again, but its like rice or soft mushy baby food type stuff because I still can not chew yet, though I can swallow again. My jaw is still not functioning good so im having trouble talking still. So there's been slight improvement to my mouth, throat, and jaw, but, zero improvement to my eye, which is a major concern, be Im almost fully blind right now. im legally blind since birth in my left eye, so I have no ability to fall back on using my left eye. My right eye is the one injured and my vision in it is "40% decreased" according to my doctor, but it wasn't good vision to begin with, and right now my right eye is not much different from my legally blind left eye. Which I why I have to have someone drive my car for me instead of me driving my car myself right now, which is very frustrating, because, being a female, I had to fight for over twenty years to be allowed to drive. I started sneaking out at age 31 and dressing as a man to go to Old Orchard Beach high school to get a ged, because us females are not allowed to go to school. And i was 37 years old when snuck out to the DMV and got a driver's permit and started going to college. I was 42 and 8 months pregnant when my family found out I was going to college and thats when I was punished by the backhoe driving over my house and my spine broken with a golf club and my baby born right then and killed with same golf club. So it's very frustrating now, so soon after finally being able to drive , to now not be able to drive because of an eye injury, especially after 14 years of being paralyzed from the golf club and not being allowed to have a wheelchair, again, because i am female and we females are simply not allowed to do anything. I hate the culture I was born into. I wish I had the freedom to go to school and drive a car the way American women do. I wish having my spine broken with a golf club and my baby killed with a golf club and a backhoe driven over my house was not how men in my family punishment women in my family for learning to read and write. Its so frustrating not being able to to drive again, so soon after 14 years being paralyzed, and being paralyzed by the golf club was the punishment for getting a driver's license back in 2013 after 30 years of men not letting me have one. I hate my family's culture and how they treat us women.
I get so sick of Americans telling me how they wish they could be a Gypsy… they are either misogynist woman hating pigs, or delusional idiots who haven't got a clue how shittily we Gypsy women are treated by Gypsy men, because no one in their righ mind who knows anything about Gypsy culture would ever want to be part of it. I hate that I was born a Gypsy.
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update sept 7, 2026
"You would not make a good teacher"... what does that mean, and why are there so many people on Railroad Ave and Western Ave and Cutts St why walk up to me and say that to me?
I find it very confusing. I have low functioning Autism (the Rain Man type) and so i have very little understanding of words beyond the basic ones, and i never went to to school, so I never learned maths or sciences, and I only had remedial classes at Southern Maine Community College, because I did not have an education to enroll with regular, I was there taking every reading and writing class they had to learn how to read and write, and also took speaking classes to learn how to talk (i spoke Shetland Scottish language because that was language my grandmother spoke but she died when I was 8 so I only knew that language to speak and write, and I was 37 when I went to college and 42 when I learned English speaking and I still cant speak English good yet), all the other classes I took were art painting and cooking.
So the phrase "You would not make a good teacher" makes no sense to me because it seems to imply that I am trying to be a teacher, but I don't have anything close to the education ti be a teacher, and im not trying to be a teacher. So I don't know why people keep saying this phrase to me and I assume it must have some sort of a slang meaning, but I can't figure out what it could be of why do these people keep saying it to me.
see video below for more information:
@eelkat "You would not make a good teacher"... what does that mean, and why are there so many people on Railroad Ave and Western Ave and Cutts St why walk up to me and say that to me? I find it very confusing. I have low functioning Autism (the Rain Man type) and so i have very little understanding of words beyond the basic ones, and i never went to to school, so I never learned maths or sciences, and I only had remedial classes at Southern Maine Community College, because I did not have an education to enroll with regular, I was there taking every reading and writing class they had to learn how to read and write, and also took speaking classes to learn how to talk (i spoke Shetland Scottish language because that was language my grandmother spoke but she died when I was 8 so I only knew that language to speak and write, and I was 37 when I went to college and 42 when I learned English speaking and I still cant speak English good yet), all the other classes I took were art painting and cooking. So the phrase "You would not make a good teacher" makes no sense to me because it seems to imply that I am trying to be a teacher, but I don't have anything close to the education ti be a teacher, and im not trying to be a teacher. So I don't know why people keep saying this phrase to me and I assume it must have some sort of a slang meaning, but I can't figure out what it could be of why do these people keep saying it to me. #mainelife #biddefordmaine #maine #disabilitytiktok #Biddeford ♬ original sound Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author
update Sept 15, 2026:
I have some slight movement in some my fingers again again after over a decade being paralyzed
you remember how I used to be a professional doll making, pattern designer, and embroiderer, back before I became paralized and before my son was murdered and being the backhoe drove over my house?
all my equipment, sewing machines, ect were all destroyed by the backhoe driving over my house, and I have been quardepelegic for over a decade because of it so could not use my hands to sew or draw or embroider, and so only continued to do my writing of novels since then because I could do that with dragon dictation software,
well, since 2016, I been playing Witcher 3 and don't starve video games on twitch livestream, one hand two fingers, as part of my therapy to regain nerve and muscle use of my fingers, and now after 10 years of that, I have somewhat more movement in my fingers and im thinking maybe I can try to do embroidery and doll making again, but not sure, anyways, now im rebuying all of my sewing and embroidery equipment that the backhoe destroyed when it drove over my house, and hopefully I can use my hand enough to embroider again.
waiting for stuff to arrive in mail, so soon I should find out if ten years of twitch gaming has given me enough muscle strength to use my fingers to embroider again.
update to the previous video, answering viewer question about lack of hospital vs broken spine
Wheelchair Fundraiser... I need to upgrade to a power wheelchair, the manual one just isn't enough anymore. But the power wheelchair is $25k. Yes, twenty five thousand dollars. Wtf? I can get a car for a quarter that price, why are wheelchairs so damned expensive? That's more money then I make in five years, so I need to start a fundraiser for it.
The Summoner of Darkness is
an Epic Length Novel of more than 300,000 words
(500+ paperback pages)
This chapter is...
Word count: 4,000
or
12 paperback pages.

~o0o~ Chapter ~o0o~
"It was a ritual killing," Mallac said. "We are sure of it. Each victim was cut palm to palm, all the way up the arms and across the neck. They were each left face down, left to bleed straight into the ground. There was no obvious trails in the dirt. It appears the bodies were killed where they were found and not brought from elsewhere. Until tonight, it had been one victim each night, but this time there were two deaths."
Mallac sat back and stared at Quaraun, waiting for the Elf to say something.
"I can't help you."
"But you are the world's most powerful wizard..." Mallac started to say.
"So?" Quaraun deeply disliked being called the world's most powerful wizard. Calling him thusly was the fastest way to offend him.
"But people say..."
"People say a lot of things," Quaraun said. "People can say, whatever the hell they want. It doesn't make it true."
"So are you the world's most powerful wizard or not?"
"So what if I am? What difference does it make?"
"It makes a lot of differance."
"How?"
"You can save us..."
"Oh fuck off!"
"But...
"Do I look like I care?"
"You look increadibly pissed off right now..."
"Oh really? And I wonder why that possibly might be?"
"We need your help..."
"Why?"
"I told you already..."
"People in this town are being murdered left and right, blah, blah, blah. In what town isn't that the case?"
"But you're the world's most powerful wizard..."
"So? What do you even think that means?"
"Well, you can do things."
"Like what?"
"You can use magic to defeat monsters..."
"Magic doesn't work that way. If it did, I wouldn't be sitting in this tavern right now with a bloody leg."
Upon saying this, Quaraun hiked his skirts up and threw his wounded leg up on the table, in the most unladylike way possible.
"You see that?" He pointed to the bite wound. "A monster did that. Magic didn't stop that from happening now did it?"
"But you're the world's..."
"Phfft."
Quaraun pulled his leg back off the table and turned away from the soilder.
"Why can't I go anywhere without this happening," he asked Unicorn.
"Yis world's most powerful wizard," Unicorn stated.
Quaraun sighed. He hated the reputation he had. He almost wished it wasn't true. He never set out to become the world's most powerful wizard. He wasn't even sure that he was all that powerful at all. The only reason anyone said he was, was because of what happened to the DiJinn. Quaraun loved horses. Too much perhaps. He couldn't just stand back and do nothing while the DiJinn slaughtered an entire herd of innocent little ponies. That the ponies were really monsters in disguise hadn't mattered to him. He just couldn't watch someone kill a horse. And so he told the DiJinn to drop dead, and they obediently did exactly that. Seconds later all that was left of the most powerful guild of wizards, was piles of ash, where live wizards had once stood.

Quaraun wasn't certain how exactly it was he had killed the DiJin. He didn't even know if he could do something like that again. He wasn't in the habit of using magic. And it seemed, he had little control over the magic he did use, which was mostly sporadic bursts of his anger manifesting in horribly bloody disaster. That was him losing his temper and everyone around him dropping dead.
Magic was not what people thought it was. It certain wasn't what Mallac thought it was. Quaraun simply did not know how to explain to people the way magic worked, at least in any way they could understand. Especially not when he didn't even understand the workings of magic. Studying to become a wizard had not been his life choice. Like all wizards, he had been a child abducted by fanatical priests and raised in a self made temple that forced young boys into servitude to a demon. Wizards were a far cry from the magical beings the average person thought they was. They were nothing more then glorified priests who happened to serve real "gods". Not that their gods were actual gods. the gods of wizards were demons with true powers, powers wizards were taught to call up.
Unlike other wizards, Quaraun had not succumbed to the servitude his kidnapped had forced him into. He had rebelled constantly against them, rarely paid attention to the prayers and rituals they taught him, spent most of his days finding ways to escape rather than memorize chants to the god of the DiJinn.
The public image of wizards was nothing but a scam, put out their by the leaders of the wizarding guilds, to try to make the wizards of their guild seem more powerful then the wizards of the next guild. Nothing but pompous old men puffing each other up. It disgusted Quaraun and wanted no part of it.
All he had ever wanted to do was escape the egomaniacal demon cultists and go back home to his family. But now his family was ded. His people were dead. He was alone. Travelling with the last of the DiJinn priests and an undead Faerie who was trapped in the wrong dimension and loving it. So many people here for him to play pranks on.
Quaraun looked up from his thoughts. Mallac was still going on about the ritual murders taking place every night this past week. Unicorn had left the table momentarily. He had spied a sleeping patron at another table and snuck over to tie the man's boots to the table leg.
Quaraun shook his head. He did not understand Unicorn and his endless need to torment every one and everything. Unicorn was a Faerie after all. Quaraun had long ago given u trying to understand the irrationality of Faerie logic.
"And you are the world's most powerful wizard..." Mallac said again, in the middle of his explanation of the details of the grizzly murders.
Quaraun heard only that one line. The rest of Mallac's words drifted passed him. Quaraun thought about the little black ponies. Tiny little Shetlands, so out of place in the desert of the DiJinn. Galloping and playing. Sleeping along the river bank.
He had known they weren't really horses. No wild horses ran through the desert of the DiJinn and horses didn't have fangs or sharp claws instead of hooves, Quaraun had known from the first day he had seen them, that they were a pack of Faeries in disguise. He had also known that no good Fae ever pretended to be a black furred animal. The most telling sign of all was the fact that the herd was led by a little black unicorn. The size of a goat. With a gleaming silver horn on its head. And the skull of a dead Ef skewered on it's horn and worn as a crown. The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley. King of the Faeries. And he dark, evil army. Quaraun had known who they were and why they had surrounded the temple of the DiJinn. Why they called to him each day, luring him outside, down to the river, away from the safety of the DiJinn. They hunted Elves. Killed Elves. Slaughtered Elves. And ate Elven flesh. And Quaraun was an Elf. But none of this had stopped the young Elf from skipping his studies every day to go down to the river and watch the herd of little black ponies chasing each other, luring him ever closer to the marshy shores of the river bank.
Then one day, Quaraun snuck out, to find the DiJinn waiting, and frightened little horses crying out in agony, as one by one the wizard priests slaughtered the evil little pony-nots.
"No! Stop!"
"You don't know what they are."
"Stop hurting them."
"They are here to kill our god. The Sacred Pink JellyFish must be protected."
The DiJinn heeded not the cries of the young Elfling. A child with barely any training, standing up against the most powerful wizards on the planet. It had been foolish to think such a small Elfling stood a chance against the DiJinn. The DiJinn - who were capable of cutting down the Elf Eater's army like they were nothing but flies.
And yet, the DiJinn themselves, worshiped the young Elf, proclaiming that a Demon god had burrowed itself into his body and now lived inside him. It was foolish of them to defy her will.
Quaraun watched in horror as the ponies fell before the wizards. One by one the ponies died. Their screams cutting through his soul. The ponies ran, but were cut dead in their tracks, no match for the powerful DiJinn wizards.
Seeing his army defeated, the unicorn ran too. The little black unicorn. Quaraun's favorite pony, fell to the DiJinn.
"You'll not kill my unicorn," the words of the Elf rang through the desert. His voice now changed. No longer the voice of the Elf, but now the voice of the beast that lived inside him. To hear her speak, caught the DiJinn of guard, as they turned to the Elf.
"DIE!"
The last word any of them heard. The moment the word left his lips, every last DiJinn, save one coward who had fled earlier, withered away to dust. Their bodies burning in flames, twisted in agony. And seconds later, the DiJinn were no more.
ZooLock along survived and he fled to the desert, terrified of the wrath of his god. Terrified of the Sacred Pink Jellyfish. No doubt in his mind existed now that she was anything other then the one true god.
The unicorn had watched in awe, at the Elf powers unlike anything he had never seen. No wizard had the power's Quaraun had. This was not magic. The unicorn knew this. This was something else. Whatever Quaraun was, he was neither Elf, nor Wizard, and now both the unicorn and last of the DiJinn worshiped him like a god.
Quaraun watched ZooLock stealing food off people's tables while they weren't looking, and Unicorn, now dumping a bottle of red pepper into a jar of strawberry jam. They both believed he was the world's most powerful wizard and they both followed him, obeying him without question because of it. All because of how he had killed the DiJinn.
Perhaps it did make him the world's most powerful wizard, but it didn't mean he could control it or even knew how he did it.
Wizardry was not what the world thought it was. Magic didn't have all the dazzle and punch rumors said it had. Far too many people, people with no knowledge of magic, had it in their heads that all a wizard had to do was wave a wand and -POOF- they could do anything and everything. The problem stemmed from the fact that wizards were rare and magic uncommon, resulting in mystical glorification of both. Stories gave wizard's god-like powers they were not even remotely capable of in real life. Quaraun long ago gave up trying to explain to common folk what magic was and was not capable of.
The soldier continued to tell Quaraun of the murders that had plagued their town this past week and all the reasons why magic and wizards were exactly what they needed right now. Quaraun didn't listen to a word of it. He contemplated telling the soldier all the reasons his misconceptions about wizards and magic were wrong, but concluded it was a waste of his time to argue with the man, so instead let the man ramble on, while he dozed off.
"YOU'RE NOT LISTENING TO ME!"
Quaraun sat up and looked around. For a moment he couldn't remember where he was. Then he saw the soldier, glaring angrily at him.
"What?" Quaraun asked sleepily, yawning.
"You fell asleep."
"So?"
"You were not listening to me?"
"Was I supposed to be?"
"Now I have to say all of that all over again."
"You really don't..."
"You have to pay attention..."
"I do?"
"Yes!"
"Why?"
"If you are going to help us, you need to know what happened."
"Did I say I was going to help?"
"Yes, you did!"
Quaraun looked at Unicorn.
"Did I say I was going to help?"
"Ya mumbled some'ing to dat effect. After him threatened to toss ya in in prison for not helping him."
"Bother."
"Are you going to stay awake and listen to mem" Mallac asked.
"Fine. Who died? What do you know about them?"
"The first victim was Gnnizllahuantyotleyog, a Dwarf.”
"That is a Thullid name," Quaraun said. “Why would a Dwarf have a Thullid name?”
“She was the daughter of the most prominent merchant in town. She was about to be wedded to the son of another prominent merchant, They were going to combine their establishments. We thought at first, that it was motivated by perhaps a third merchant who wanted to prevent the merger of two big shipping companies into one huge shipping company..."
"But you no longer think this?" Quaraun asked.
"No. The second victim was Axcolwbettlii.”
“Also a Thullid name.”
“He was a big sloth of a man. Not well liked. He had a farm outside of town. Kept children, orphans, you know, little kids, as slaves. Cheaper then farmhands, he said. A lot of people in town would have liked to see him dead..."
"And there was no connection between the two them? Other then both having Thullid names?"
"Nope, none as far as I can tell."
Mallac pointed to the third murder site marked on the map.
"Selliinsuji was the third victim.”
“Another Thullid name.”
“A young girl. Recently married. We found her here, same as the others, cut palm to palm, face down in the mud. Her family's farm is just over there, she was probably on her way home."
"What's that over there?" Quaraun pointed a large blacked out circle on the map, just off to the side of where Selliinsuji's body was found.
"That's The Black Tower," said Mallac.
"Black Tower?”
Quaraun turned and looked out the window. He could see Black Tower from here.
“What IS Black Tower? It calls to me."
"Calls to you?"
"Yes. Can you not hear it? It's been calling to me for days. It's fascinating."
"Uhm..."
"Tell me about Black Tower. What is it?"
"A tall tower built out of smooth black river stones. It's really ancient. I think it was part of an old castle years ago, but there's nothing but the tower standing there today. It was converted into a lighthouse for a few decades. An old half-Elf lives there now. He fancies himself a wizard, but he's, I don't know, he's kind of stupid. Can't do much in the way of magic, near as I can tell. He's the kind of guy who just wants to run around in a cape. He's got this strange looking servant, also a half-Elf, but not like any Elf I never did see before. Got hair yellower then if it had been painted."
“A Sun Elf?”
“Don't know Elf types.”
“Sun Elves have bright yellow hair that glows in the dark. And we meet a Sun Elf on the way here. GhoulSpawn. Used to call himself Glinter.”
“Don't know. Just know the old Elf is ancient and the young Elf has got yellow hair like nothing I've ever seen before and they both kind of crazy.”
“Crazy how?”
“Hermits. Keep to themselves. Caught the yellow haired one stealing sheep a couple of times.”
“Sheep?”
“Yeah, not sure what he does with them.”
"Do you suspect him of being connected?"
“The yellow Elf? Nah. He's kind of crazy, but he seems harmless. I don't think he'd hurt anyone. Not sure what it is with him stealing sheep though. I think he steals corpses too.”

“Corpses?”
“Yep. Caught him a couple of times out in graveyards and fields with a shovel. Never seen him with no body, though. It's like he's looking for buried treasure or something. Strange fella, but nice enough whenever I've talked to him.”
"You're lying to me."
"What?"
"Your voice changed. When ya started talking about GhoulSpawn. You don't like him. Your words said one thing, but your voice said something else. Why don't you like GhoulSpawn."
"He's a thief."
"Considering he cleaned out my pockets, I had already gathered that much."
"You had a run in with him."
"That storm a few days ago. He got caught in it. So did we. We both ended up seeking shelter in the same abandoned cathedral. Had to wait out the storm before going forward. I had gold coins in my pockets went I fell asleep. They disappeared some time during the night."
"We can arrest him on that."
"Don't bother."
"Why not?"
"He's just a child. An orphaned one at that. I already confronted him. He gave me the coins back and then I gave them to him. Poor thing looks half starved. For such a prosperous town, I'm surprised you have people going hungry like that."
"He's a half-Elf."
"Meaning?"
"It is what it is."
"I don't like the tone of your voice."
"hat's wrong with it?"
"It implies that a half-Elf does not deserve food."
"Listen... might as well get it out now."
"Get what out?"
"Folks 'round here don't like half-Elves."
"Why not?"
"There's a band of half-Elves just outside of town. They start trouble. Band of thieves. Steal everything that ain't nailed down. Food, weapons, tools, you name, they steal it."
"In my experience no one steals unless forced to out of great need. And as I said before... a town this prosperous, should have enough to go around. There shouldn't be anyone going without, so there should be no need to steal."
"Yeah, you're not from around here. You don't get it."
"Perhaps I don't. What about the other one? You said there were two half-Elves in town. Do you think he's involved?”
"HellBorne? HellBorne the Evil, Summoner of Darkness the Great and Mighty Overlord of the Evil Black Tower of the Dark Castle of Doom? Nah." Mallac laughed at the thought. "No HellBorne is harmless. Crazy as ten coots, but harmless."
"Someone with a name like HellBorne," Unicorn said. "Does no sound harmless."
"Oh, no. He changed his name to sound scary and spooky. He's like that. No, he wouldn't hurt anybody. I told you, he's an Elf."
"No, you said he was a half-Elf," Quaraun stated, as though half-Elves were scum of the Earth. "You didn't say half what else. If he's half-Human, that alone makes him prone to evil."
“Can an Elf be half something not Human?”
“He could be half-Faerie or half-Dwarf or half-Mountain Troll or half-Orc or half-Demon or...”
“Half-Demon?”
“Yes. Horrible thought.”
"I don't know what else he is, but he's an Elf, so I know he wouldn't hurt no one..."
"Are you of the opinion that being an Elf, precludes one from doing harm?"
"Well, yeah, I mean, Elves are Elves, they do nice things, like granting wishes..."
"Granting wishes? That's what Kelim said to me."
"Kelim?"
"An annoyingly stupid Pixie that reminds me of you."
"He asketh Quaraun to grantth him wish," Unicorn explained. "Just before his village went din-din to Pocket Lich."
"Pocket Lich?"
"Him carries Lich in his pocket."
"You do?" Mallac asked Quaraun.
The Elf just smiled and said: "Yes, and my other Lich doesn't want to be in my bed tonight, otherwise he'd shut up."
Unicorn immediately stopped talking and sat as quiet as a grave he was no longer buried in.
"Tell me about HellBorne," Quaraun said to Mallac.
"He's just a crazy old coot. Got old and lost his marbles. You know the type. He's just a crazy old man who likes to scare the kiddies. Makes all kinds of lights go off around the tower. Fireworks and stuff. Smoke and nonsense."
"And yet he lives in something called Black Tower."
"Well, yes..."
"I'd like to see Black Tower up close."
"Nah. You wouldn't like it."
"How would you know?"
"Like I said. He's trying to make himself sound all big and scary. He thinks he's a Necromancer. You know, evil wizard, black mage, army of zombies..."
"I know what a Necromancer is."
"Oh, that's right, you are one aren't you?"
“Yes, I am.”
“People like to go up there at night and watch the show. Some times they get drunk and come back talking about all these monsters and things...”
“Monsters?”
“Yeah. Like your squid buddy there, only bigger, more hulking, squatter, fatter, green skin, sort of rubbery looking...”
“Uoogal-Thorpe?” ZooLock asked.
“What?”
“Uoogal-Thorpe.”
“What's that?”
“An Uoogal-Thorpe is a type of Chaos Demon, made out of Thullid larvae implanted into UmberHulks.”
“UmberHulks?”
“Hhhhm, yes. Nasty beasts. I wonder how an Uoogal-Thorpe got into this dimension?”
Mallac pointed to the site of the fourth murder.
"Ellreekii died here..." Mallac started to say.
"That is a Thullid name as well," Quaraun said.
"Elderly woman. An Elf, like you. Well, not like you. But an Elf. Wouldn't harm a soul. She was known for her generosity and kindness. Everyone loved her. Her husband was a merchant of rare herbs and spices."
"Another merchant?"
"Yes, well, this is a sea port after all. Ships dock right down yonder." Mallac pointed in the direction of the coastline. A sea gull flew over head and screamed as if to emphasis how close The ocean was to them. "There's a lot of merchants in these parts. Merchants. Captains. Cut throats. Pirates. Scally wags. It’s the area for it. Yeah, stands to reason most folks in town have some connection to a merchant. That’s just the way it is in these parts. What with the ocean right there and all.”
"I see."
A freckled, distraught boy emerged from an alley.
Mallac watched the boy nervously and waited for him to be out of sight before continuing.
"Well yeah, any ways, he died a few years back. Old age.. Nothing suspicious. Just a really old Elf. Her sons took care of her after he died and she used every penny she had to do good to those less fortunate..Not a sweeter soul in these parts. Can't figure out why any one would hurt such a sweet, kind soul."
"Ellreekii is a Thullid name. No Elf would name there child a Thullid name. She must have changed her name later on. What type of Elf was she?"
"Just an Elf, I don't know how you tell one from another. An Elf is an Elf."
"Indeed. I could say the same of Humans. You all look alike, can't tell one from another."
"Now you're just being rude."
"And arrogant," added Unicorn. "Very arrogant this one. He be a king ya knows? Went right to his head it did."
"You're a king?" Mallac asked.
"Yes," Quaraun answered. "Though I've no kingdom and no people."
"He killed his people," Unicorn stated.
"You...killed your people?"
"And he ate his father," Unicorn chirped happily. "Don't forget that."
"You...why?"
"He cut my hair, burned my dresses, and killed my lover. Said he wanted his son to be a King, not a Queen. and he didn't like BoomFuzzy."
"What's a BoomFuzzy?"
"I a BoomFuzzy," said Unicorn. "His father killed me and now I a Unicorn."
"I don't understand."
"His name was BoomFuzzy," said Quaraun. "When he was alive he was a candy maker..."
"Drugged candies," Unicorn corrected. "Played fun with ya mind."
"He's a Phooka," Quaraun went on. "And an Elf Eater. He took up residence in our village, pretended to be a half-Elf and set up a candy shop, which was a false front for the fact that he was a serial killer who used candy to drug Elves, so he could kill them and eat them without them making a fuss."
"Plus ya drug yarself when ya eats drugged Elf flesh," Unicorn said cheerily. "Fun times!"
"So, you're both insane?" Mallac asked.
"Yes," answered ZooLock. "They most certainly are. and I'm their prisoner, not that anyone cares."
"But you're an Elf?" Mallac said to Quaraun.
"Yes."
"And he... eats?... Elves?"
"Yes."
"But you said he was your lover?"
"Yes."
"I'm confused."
“Everyone is.”
"Don't try to think about it," warned ZooLock. "It'll mess with your mind. The worse part of it is the fact that he lets the Faerie drink his blood while they fuck each other. He's a sick Elf. Not right in the head at all."
"And you ate your own father?"
"Yes."
"So you're a cannibal?"
"No. I don't make a habit of eating Elves. It was a one time thing. A play on something he said once. He did not like BoomFuzzy. The villagers agreed with him. So I killed them and ate him.”
"So, you're a murderer."
"I am Quaraun the Insane, Last of the Moon Elves, Murder of Gibedon the Great, Master of the Dead, Lord of the Lich Lords, Resurector of the Black Dragon, most powerful and most feared Necromancer of all time. Most feared wizard on the planet. Lover to the Elf Eater of Pepper Valley... and you asked for my help in solving a murder. Who better to understand the mind of a murderer, then another murderer?"
"That...that actually makes sense," Mallac agreed.
An apparently foreign, happy girl walked by very slowly, bringing them out of their side tracked conversation.
"Now this Ellreekii, what did she look like?"
"She was an Elf." Mallac shrugged. "Elves look like Elves."
Quaraun sighed. "This is why I hate dealing with Humans. They are all so stupid."
Mallac was about to respond but Unicorn stopped him.
"Donna bother trying to defend ya honour. He be an incredibly arrogant Elf. He be so arrogant, that his ego has it's own pet ego. Ignore it when he tells ya, that yar race be the scum of the Earth and not fit to be ants under his feet. He is a king after all. His father raised him to see everyone as unworthy peasants. If ya really wants his help, just agree that ya is scum of the Earth not worthy to kiss his feet and he'll helps ya out of the kindness of his heart and in the knowledge that it be his duty as king to help those races not fortunate enough to have been born Elves."
"Do you do that?"
"I should probably point out that my real name was not BoomFuzzy, no matter what he says. I am King Gwallmaiic Elf Eater of Pepper Valley, Leader of the Lich Lords. We is both royalty. Neither of us likes Humans. We both see the Human race as parasites to be squashed, but I is not so open about it as he is. I would rather just eat them and be done with them, while he would rather belittle them and use them as footstools, so either way ya is not dealing with anyone here who thinks very highly of Humans."
"What about him?" Mallac pointed his thumb at ZooLock.
ZooLock tried to answer, but Unicorn shoved him out of his seat. The Thullid fell to the floor and rolled under the table.
"He's a Thullid," Unicorn said. "Ya does nae fucking know what a Thullid is do ya, boy?"
"No, can't say as I've ever seen anything quite like him. He's like an octopus or something, right?"
"Most Humans, dub the Thullids as 'The Brain Sucking Squids From Neptune' Moon'. Thullids, eat Humans. They came from across the galaxy in flying ships. They are only here to harvest Humans for slaughter to be sent back to their home planet as steaks. Ya Humans is to the Thullid as cows is to ya Humans. Tasty with a side of fish, chips, and mushy peas. Hmmm. I've not had fish, chips, and mushy peas in ages. Do ya suppose they have it here?"
Unicorn got up and went to find a waiter to ask. Most of them had run off to hide, as the tavern was running out of food, trying to cater to the Lich's endless hunger.

"You're not sneaking away again," Quaraun said to ZooLock, who had crawled under the table and tried to get to the front door.
ZooLock glumly came back to the table and sat down next to his Elven captor.
"Now then," Quaraun addressed Mallac again. "Ellreekii. When I asked, what she looked like. I meant, describe her to me. Was she tall? Short? Pale? Dark? Blond? Redhead? Green eyes? Blue eyes?..."
"Blue."
"She had blue eyes?"
"No, she was blue."
"Explain yourself."
"Every inch of her was blue?"
"How so?"
"Blue skin, darker blue hair, blue eyes, really, really, wicked long blue ears. I mean long ears. Her ears must have been a foot tall above her head. Just like yours. Always wore blue gowns, all embroidered in silver and trimmed in white fur..."
"She's from the Deep North," Unicorn said as he came back to the table eating what appeared to be the arm of a waiter. "What ya is describing is the traditional dress of the Moon Elves."
"Except she was blue, not white," Mallac said.
Next Chapter: >>>

Back from the dead, once again with Unicorn in tow, and now with the Thullid priest ZooLock his prisoner shackled in chains, Quaraun is headed back to The Screaming Unicorn Tavern in Old Orchard Beach, but finds himself cursed with endless bad luck, as one thing after another drops out of the sky in his path.
Highwaymen, hellhounds, a turtle as big as a house, fire breathing butterflies, a train station from the 20th century, and a strange glow-in-the-dark demonic wizard with pockets full of sheep, who sits in a red armchair in poppy field in the 1400s reading 1980s spellbooks books by Gary Gaygax.
Quaraun goes head to head against The Gremlin, a time traveling wizard from the future who refuses to allow the Pink Necromancer back into Old Orchard Beach, where since his last visit, an evil Sorcerer named HellBorne has erected a giant cursed lighthouse known as The Black Tower.
ZooLock however has other plans, and while 4 rival wizards tear up the town in a wizard's duel, the Squid Headed Aliens From Neptune's Moon and their armies of JellyFish worshiping cultists arrive in town to preform a ritual that will unleash an Elder Brain Chaos Demon, known as The Sacred Pink JellyFish on the world. Too bad they didn't know she was already in town.
NOTE: Most of this novel will be available as free to read online.
(The End?)
The Summoner of Darkness is the first time The Gremlin, EelKat, Lyxiana, Bela, and Spriggan (all characters from the original 1978 edition of Friends Are Forever, Volume 1 of The Twighlight Manor Series) make appearances in The Quaraun series.
While most of the Quaraun series is written with Quaraun as the only point of view character, EelKat, the primary point of view character of the Twighlight Manor series, alternates with Quaraun as a point of view character in Summoner of Darkness.
The novel tells 2 stories side by side, with all odd numbered chapters telling Quaraun's version of the story in the 1400s, and all even numbered chapters being written as letters from EelKat in the 1980s to her sister Lynxian.
EelKat is a 4th wall meta breaking narrator.

This is the first time GhoulSpawn appears using the name GhoulSpawn. In previous volumes he was using the name Glinta instead.
In the Twighlight Manor series he is known as The Gremlin.
Quaraun's teenaged lover GhoulSpawn is a "natural born" Sorcerer. He is a half-Elf/half Demon.
GhoulSpawn's father was an evil Demon who commanded an army of Ghouls. Because of this, he was known simply as "The Ghoul".
GhoulSpawn's mother was a Sun Elf whom had fallen in love with The Ghoul, but was forbidden by her family to have contact with him. She in turn ran away with her Demon lover, thus causing a war between Elves and Demons.
The Sun Elves tell a story of how their Princess was kidnapped and raped by the Ghoul, thus she gave birth to the Spawn of the Ghoul. Though his mother named him Glinta, she died while he was still very young, and his Elven kin, took to calling him GhoulSpawn as a way to brand him not one of them.
GhoulSpawn is an interdimensional time traveller, because he is unable to remain in any one time, place or dimension long, because he was born in the Hell Dimension, which exists outside of the realm of time and space as we know it. The Ghoul tried to escape the Sun Elves by going to the distant future (1974) and leaving his half-Elf son and the boy's mother there to live among a band of LSD addicted hippie Humans whom drove a 1974 AMC Gremlin.
The Sun-Elves eventually found their missing she-Elf and brought her back to the 1400s where she belonged, but she refused to leave her half-Demon son behind.
After his mother's death, GhoulSpawn was made a servant to his High Elf step-father and full blooded Elf step siblings, all of whom abused him and treated him like a slave. He grew up constantly being told he, because he was only a half-Elf, was unloved and unwanted and should have been killed at birth, resulting in the very low self esteem he has.
Neither Demons nor half-Elves are considered welcomed members of society, both being forced to live in small tribal groups on the outskirts of civilization. Both are often stoned to death or hung if they dare set foot in a city.
GhoulSpawn being both a Demon and a half-Elf is doubly mistreated by the majority of the world's population. He takes to travelling with Quaraun because Quaraun simply accepts GhoulSpawn as he is and is not bothered by being seen in the company of either a Demon or a half-Elf.
There are several instances when people try to bully GhoulSpawn and Quaraun (a high ranking full-blooded aristocratic High Elf) is quick to stand up for him, protecting and defending the half-Elf. Quaraun is often classified by other Elves as "insane" simply because he is willing to be friends with a half-Elf.
GhoulSpawn has a speech impediment which lessens when he is relaxed and grows worse the more nervous or frightened he becomes.
Around calm laid back characters like Quaraun, GhoulSpawn speaks without difficulty. However around domineering, headstrong, or bullying characters such as Unicorn or HellBorne, GhoulSpawn develops a stutter, making it difficult for him the get to the end of a sentence.
Because he is a Demon, GhoulSpawn was born with natural magical abilities, making him a rare "natural born wizard" or sorcerer.
GhoulSpawn is typical of a Sorcerer in the Quaraun series, in that he has Demon blood, was thus born with a Demon's natural ability to cast magic on some levels, has taking to self-teaching himself how to control the magic powers he was born with, is outcast from society because of his link to Demons, and is generally not well thought of, even though he is not in any way evil, and is in fact the only part of the cast who could be considered anything close to being a Hero.
Being a time traveller, there are times when Quaraun encounteres both GhoulSpawn and his future counterpart Gremlin in the same novel.
This is the first novel in the series to feature multiple versions of GhoulSpawn in a single novel.
GhoulSpawn remains one of the most hated and most loved characters in the series. People who dislike him, absolutely despise him and have gone so far as to request I remove his character from the series entirely. While people who love him, often cite him as their favourite character and often request I add him into more stories more often.
For the people who don't like him, I'm sorry, but he remains one of my favourite characters of the series and he's not going anywhere.
For the people who want to see more of him: there are plans to make changes to several stories in the series to include him in the future editions, more often.
You can find out more about GhoulSpawn here:

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This novel was originally written in: 2014 - 2016
This page was written by Wendy Christine Allen of 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine.
All Rights Reserved.
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.
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Get an email whenever Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻 publishes on Medium.
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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.
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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.
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There are no ebook editions as they are already available digitally here on my website.