Quaraun opened his eyes. The sun was shining over head. For a moment he forgot where he was, until he turned over and saw a tiny little black Shetland pony, with claws instead of hooves, long fangs, and a silver horn, laying, curled on its side, peacefully sleeping beside him. It was a tiny little horse, no bigger then a Golden Retriever. Quaraun sat up and looked around. He groaned from the sharp pain in his neck and groin. He would not quickly forget last night's encounter. Or was it last night? The pain in his side was gone. Quaraun checked his ribs. The wound was healed. He wondered how many nights had passed since he'd arrived. A single night in the Realm of Fae could have been decades in Earth time.
Quaraun looked around him. He was not in the oubliette any more. He was outside, in the blueberry plains at the edge of the forest, back near the fallen tree where he had started. The forest was not nearly as dense as it had been before, nor the fog as thick, nor the ruins as tall and menacing. Everything looked smaller, less frightening, less spooky, more natural, more real.
Quaraun looked back down at the Faerie.
“BoomFuzzy,” Quaraun whispered as he stared down at the sleeping Faerie Horse.
Upon BoomFuzzy's death, the Elven candy maker's body had melted away, as one illusion after another faded, all of his many forms dissolving and melding together, until at last the true beast had been revealed. A tiny black pony, no bigger then a goat, is what BoomFuzzy had actually been. An evil marsh Unicorn, from the heaths of Scotland, that had followed the Moon Elf to the deserts of the Di'Jinn in Persia. His whole life, everywhere he went, Quaraun had been followed by a small herd of black ponies, lead by one shaggy, raggedy, scraggly, greying haired old pony with long sharp fangs, talons instead of hooves, silver eyes blinded by age, and a gleaming spiralling silver horn on it's head.
Quaraun had seen the pony dozens of times throughout his life time. The evil Unicorn had followed him for centuries. Several times Quaraun had tried to catch it, but it always ran away. Timid, skittish, the little black Unicorn had liked to run up behind the Elf, then run away laughing hysterically. In his childhood, Quaraun had grown to think of the Unicorn as his friend. Then one day, the Unicorn came to play, no more. Weeks passed and Quaraun had feared the Unicorn dead. After several months, one day while running errands for the Di'Jinn, Quaraun found himself in a desert marketplace, passing a tent, in which he had heard the mournful cries of a horse being beaten. Inside the tent, he had found his little black Unicorn, crippled and maimed. His horn sawed off, his legs broken, shackled in Faerie Iron, and blood pouring from his gasping mouth.
To capture a Phooka was a difficult task, but this band of Chaos Demons, the Ghoul’s men, had set a trap, a virgin locked in a cage made of Faerie Iron, and once they got the pony inside, he was powerless to break free. The evil Unicorn had been tortured and was close to death. A Unicorn's power lay in it's horn. Without his horn, the horse was unable to morph, unable to fight, unable to cast illusions. Quaraun had wasted no time in rescuing the injured pony and setting it free, back out into the desert of the Di'Jinn, but from that day forth, the pony never stopped following him. Every day the pony now stayed outside the temple of the Di'Jinn and waited for the little Elfling to come out and play.
The Thullid, did not understand the Elf's need for companionship. They did not understand, the friendship between the young Elf boy and his horse. And one day, when he went to meet his pony by the river, Quaraun 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 Phookan army.
The young Elf stood over the dead ponies in tears.
With the herd of ponies dead, the Thullids turned upon the little black Unicorn, that led the herd, but didn't live long enough to kill him.
“You'll not kill my Unicorn!”
They were the last words the Thullids heard.
The Unicorn watched as every last Di'Jinn withered away and died in horrific agony, their body's bursting into flames, and reduced to ash, under the wrath of their beloved pink Jellyfish living in the body of a very lonely Moon Elf. The Thullids had underestimated the powers of the Jelly-brained Elf, as much as they had underestimated his love for the little black Unicorn.
All life in the desert was gone, save a small Elf wearing pink Thullid silks and a tiny black Unicorn, no bigger then a goat. 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 Lich Lords, more feared then the Elf Eater himself.
And worse, was the new rumours – that where the pink Necromancer walked, the Elf Eater followed. In every city, every town, every hamlet, every village – as the pink Necromancer left, the fierce Phookan King entered, hours after the Moon's Elf's passing. King Gwallmaiic, King of the Faeries, the Elf Eater of Pepper Valley, evillest of all evils, was never far behind the pink Necromancer.
And so, Quaraun's reputation grew, as fear crept into the hearts of every being on the planet, terrified, not of the timid Moon Elf, but of the fierce blood thirsty Phooka that shadowed his every move.
And then it stopped.
Quaraun had returned home, and days after his arrival, a gingerbread house fell from the sky. BoomFuzzy's candy shop. The strange little Elf, with soulless black eyes, turned silver with age, sharp fangs, and demonic claws. Quaraun knew immediately BoomFuzzy was a Phooka, shifted into Elf form. He knew it was his Unicorn, now taking a physical form which allowed the two to be lovers. For 30 years the two lived together and would have lived happily ever after, had Quaraun's father not thought to break up the union. The devastated Moon Elf found his beloved BoomFuzzy dying in a pool of blood, too late to save him, from a Lich making ritual. As the spell took the life from BoomFuzzy's body, Quaraun had watched the illusion slip away, and the little black unicorn, die in horrific agony.
And with that his life long friend was gone.
A Lich rose up in his place. An evil Lich, unlike any Lich before it. A Lich that slaughtered millions and had no memory of the life he'd lived with the Elf.
For two hundred years, the poor devastated Elf studied everything he could find onLiches, travelling to the ends of the earth to gather up any knowledge he could of Phookas, Unicorns, and Liches, searching desperately for a way to undo the Lich spell and restore the life back to his one true love.
One day, he took one of the Lich's phylacteries, made a golem out of ice, and cast a piece of BoomFuzzy's soul into it. The little ice pony galloped off, leaving the Elf to think he had failed once again, but unbeknownst to him, this time something worked, and the Lich was reverted back into a physical flesh and blood body, once again able to touch and feel and eat and sleep and live again. Thus King Gwallmaiic, turned BoomFuzzy, turned Unicorn, was now a Lich living within a physical body, once again alive and now reunited with his dearly beloved Moon Elf.
Quaraun looked down at the sleeping pony, laying beside him. There was no question, this was BoomFuzzy. He could not explain it, but he knew it was true. BoomFuzzy was back. Alive again. And a Lich. BoomFuzzy was now a Lich. An evil, horrible Lich that had slaughtered millions. It tore at Quaraun's heart, his love for BoomFuzzy and the knowing that this was also the most feared, bloodiest monster to ever live.
Unicorn was sound asleep. The Phooka was totally unmorphed now, lost in a deep, relaxed, restful sleep. The illusions were gone. He couldn't maintain them in his sleep. The trickster Fae beside him, was vastly changed from the monstrous beast he had seen last night, or whatever night it had been. While the claws and fangs remained, the rest of the Phooka's features looked far more frail now. And old. Very old. Incredibly old beyond belief. Quaraun suddenly realized that this Faerie horse was truly ancient, perhaps thousands of years old.
And with that thought, Quaraun suddenly realized that this was his chance to escape. More then escape...the monster, the Lich, was in a deep tranquil sleep, he could easily kill it while it slept. Quaraun had never seen a live Phooka fully unmorphed before, but he knew that in it's true form a Phooka was a Faerie Horse, a water horse from the Realm of Fae, similar to a Kelpie and related to a Unicorn. Quaraun suspected the small, clawed, fanged, horned pony laying asleep beside him, was in fact the Phooka's true form. It felt safe. It's guard was down, Quaraun could kill it while it slept and be free to leave.
Quaraun reached into the little embroidered heart hanging from his belt and pulled out a jewelled obsidian dagger. He put the black bladed dagger to the Faerie's throat about to cut it's head off, but something stopped him.
"Faerie blood," Quaraun muttered to himself. "It's a valuable thing. Very useful. The Phylacteries of the Lich Lords...I need the blood of a Fae for that. The trouble is how to get it. These things must be done properly or the spell won't work."
Quaraun knelt over the sleeping Faerie for several minutes, thinking what to do and how to best do it.
"The Elf-Eater of Pepper Valley. That's what he specialized in. Killing Faeries, using their blood. He's one of the Lich Lord's now, only Faerie blood can open his phylactery," Quaraun muttered to himself. "Oh my poor BoomFuzzy. What to do with you? I love you. I can't kill you."
Quaraun sat beside the sleeping Phooka, still holding the dagger over it's throat.
"The Obsidian Idol..." Quaraun exclaimed, louder than he had intended.
"What twere that?"
Quaraun glanced back down at the Phooka who was now awake, and staring up at the jewelled dagger in Quaraun's hand.
"Would ya kill me in me sleep?" Asked the Phooka as he sat up, pushing Quaraun's hand aside.
"Is this your true form?"
"Aye. This what I really look like. There be no illusions now."
"You're a horse?"
"No. I is a unicorn. There's a horn on me head. Did ya miss seeing that? I have claws instead of hooves. Fangs instead of teeth. I is a Phooka. Cousin to the Kelpie. A type of unicorn. We Phookas is Swamp Unicorns. We haunt brackish water swamps along the coast. We has black fur instead of white. Long shaggy fur instead of short, smooth and slick. And me horn is silver instead of gold. I is a Phooka. A type of Unicorn."
"Unicorns went extinct."
"I know. I was the last one to die. I tried to hold on, but does ya know how depressing it is to be the last of ya kind? Of corse ya do. Ya be Quaraun the Insane, last of the Moon Elves."
"Why are you letting me see your true form?"
"I had not intended to. I old and weak. It difficult for me to hold me illusions now. I fell asleep. Ya woke up before I did."
Unicorn stared at the knife in Quaraun's hand.
"Can ya not kill me in this form? I too cute and cuddly as a chubby little Shetland Pony? Do I look too sweet and harmless? Here, let me fix that."
The tiny silver horned Shetland Pony melted away, replaced by the fierce looking little wild man, whom had greeted Quuaraun at the tavern.
"This better. Easier to kill a man than a horse?"
Quaraun put his hand down.
"I'm not gonna kill you."
"No? Why not?"
"You didn't hurt me. I was wounded. Quite badly. I thought you'd kill me in my sleep. Why didn't you?"
"No reason too."
"But you eat Elves."
"Why didn't eat me?"
"Half the fun of killing Elves is the chase. Chased ya for centuries. Could no kill ya once I finally caught ya. There was no sport in it. Ya was badly wounded. I think worse than ya knew. Ya would have died, had ya kept travelling on. Ya would not have made it to Inuvijk, not with that wound ya had. Yis a powerful wizard. Difficult to catch. I knew somet’ing was wrong when I caught ya. Did no realize ya was wounded. Ya should no have hiden the fact ya were wounded. I would no had been so rough with ya had I known. I did no wish to kill ya. I is a Lich. I has eternity of absolutely nothing to do. I is bored. Ya know I is over two thousand years now?"
"You was never going to hurt me were you?"
"Nay. Just wanted to finish what we started on the Road to Inuvijk, all those years ago."
"You're King Gwallmaiic."
"Aye. Ya got in me head. Strange magic ya used on me when ya did the soul bindy t'ing. I always wondered what would have happened, had I not bitten ya. How far ya would have let me go. I scared ya when I drew blood. We could have been lovers. I would have liked to been ya lover. Ya was so young back then. Where did the time go."
Tears were streaming down Quaraun's checks, as the realization of who this was, finally suck in.
"Aye. I died. And ya blamed yarself for it. It were not ya fault. I is sorry that ya felt it was. I were very badly wounded. I were a ancient Fae. Two thousand years is long time to live. It had been long time since I fought any battles of me own. Gibedon did the fighting for me the last few decades. I had not the strength. He knew that. It were that fight with Gibedon that killed me. He wounded me. Me wound got infected. I would have died, but not quickly. I would have lingered for months in agony. The pain were getting worse. I could no walk no more. I could no take care myself. And nothing took away the pain. I killed meself to end the suffering, Quaraun. I just wanted the pain to stop. Me death was not ya fault. Ya could not have helped me and ya staying would not have stopped me. Ya do'na know how much pain I was in."
"How are you here now?"
"I is a Lich."
"I've missed you."
"I know. I felt it. We is soul bound. I feel ever t’ings ya feels. Had na reckoned on that. But I could do nothing about it. My body was like a ghost. Incorporeal."
"You've a solid body now."
"I noticed that. I think ya wished for it. Back there on the road, just before the storm. I was sitting here, in me Forest of No Return, and I saw ya reading me map, and talking about killing yaself and wishing we could be together again, before ya died. And here I am. Three hundred years of no body and now I have flesh again. Ya really wanted to be with me, quite a lot, to make this happen."
"Aye. Ha ha! Crazy old half Elf. I pretended to be him for so long. Thirty years. Because ya liked him. Never wore one skin so long."
"Why are you in this form now. King Gwallmaiic. Not BoomFuzzy?”
“Ya loved BoomFuzzy, but ya lusted for Gwallmaiic. Ya would never let BoomFuzzy in ya, because ya held on to the memories of Gwallmaiic. When he raped ya. Ya wanted to feels that again. No matter how much ya loved BoomFuzzy, Gwallmaiic was the one ya wanted inside ya. And besides, this is me natural form."
"I thought the horse was."
"Aye, they both is. I came out of me mother's womb a horse, but like all Phookas I have a Human form I can take as well. This is it. Well, this was it when I were younger. I is altering it right now to look quite a bit younger."
"The old man I saw... the blind man. That's what you look like without illusions?"
"Aye. I is old and blind. And last night, that were the first time I had sex with any one in three hundred years. Ya know who the last person I had sex with before that was?"
"No. You. I never loved Gibedon, Quaraun. I know ya thought I did, but I did not. Yis be the one I loved. Our little encounter on the road to Inuvijk. It felt good being inside of ya. Could no get excited about anyone else after that. Became obsessed with getting back inside of ya. Does ya know where we are?"
"This is the same road. This be the Road to Inuvijk. It wild and overgrown and changed quite a lot in three hundred years, but this is it. Where we is right now. This the spot where King Gwallmaiic raped ya. I knows not, why this where I came to when I died, but it is. I t'inks I was cursed to haunted this place, until ya came back. And here ya is. Ya set me free."
"You don't look like BoomFuzzy."
"BoomFuzzy was an illusion, I made to trick an Elf. You. Him weren't never real."
"He really died."
"Come with me."
"I does not seem to be able to leave this forest. Something binds me here.” The stared at the dagger in the Elf’s hand. “Hard to kill a Lich. But ya be the one wizard what knows how to do it. Is ya gonna to kill me? I will no stop ya."
"No," Quaraun placed the dagger back in his bag. “I don't seem to be able to hurt you.”
"Mmmmm." The Phooka nodded. "I thought not. Ya has no got it in ya. Necromancer or no, yis not evil, cruel or heartless. Eating you father that twere justice. Ya kill for love, not hate, or vengeance or malice or greed. That be why I dids no bother to tie ya up again eftah fucking ya. I does nae feel no a real sense of danger from ya. I question that ya've ever actually killed anyone. Rumours is only rumours eftah all. No way to prove them right or wrong.”
“I've killed a lot of people. I'm a monster.”
“How come dids ya not kill me, eh? Yis a Necromancer. Isn't killing what ya do? Elves is day creatures, Phookas is night creatures. Had ya not started talking to yaself, I probably would slept throughout entire day. Ya could easily has killed me at any time once I twere asleep. Ya thought aboot it. Ya even pulled out weapon, that usit belang to the Elf-Eater of Pepper Valley, I wonder how came by both his map and his dagger, eh? Ya were aboot to slice me throat with it, or perhaps cut out me heart, eh? Faerie hearts is a common ingredient in necromantic rituals, is they not? I know a thing or two aboot Necromancers, remember? Necromancers do that I is told, cut out folks's hearts in their sleep. Ya had a chance to, ya chose not to, how come? And what be this Obsidian Idol?"
“It's...sort of..." Quaraun suddenly changed the subject. "Why didn't you kill me in my sleep?”
"No reason to. Ya never once fought me the whole time ya twere awake. Ya could has ya know. Most powerful wizard in the world, yis. Did'na even think to pull ya Rainbow Wand on me – that could have done some real damage – I has seen ya use it. Ya could has overpowered me easily at any time. Ha ha! Ya just too stupid to remember to use ya magic. Silly brainless Elf. Ya dids the same thing bak when ya got upside doun in a tree. Never once thought to fight bak. I think that is why I so attracted to ya. Yis the most innocent virgin I ever seen.”
“I'm not a virgin any more.”
“Aye. Cured ya of that did'na I? Haha! Always said I would.”
“Does that mean ya gonna eat me now?”
“What? Oh. No. Yis still innocent. Ya poor little mind ain't never gonna grow up. Yis a child in ya head, ya always will be. No matter how old or experienced ya body gets, ya brain just ain't never gonna catch up. Poor thing. Ya really shouldn't be wandering the world alone. Ya need someone to take cares of ya. Yis in desperate need of adult supervision.”
“I'm not stupid.”
“Aye yis. Ya can'na helps it. Ya twere born that way. JellyFish in ya brain keeps ya that way. Ya always gonna be that way. And I is always gonna be looking out for ya because of it. Just like I always has.”
“Once upon a time, ya dids rescue a little pony from Gypsies and him never did forgot. Ya twere kind to me. No one is ever kind to a Phooka.”
“You're a Unicorn.”
“I is. A Phooka is a type of Unicorn. An evil flesh eating, trickster Unicorn, but I is still a Unicorn none the less.”
“Am I your prisoner?”
“Prisoner? Nay child. I is yous.”
“I do not keep you prisoner.”
“Ya does not know much aboot the Unicorns do ya?”
“What do you mean?”
“When ya saved me life, so many years ahgoo, ya captured me. I twere a prisoner, bound in chains of Faerie Iron, locked in a cage made of lead. Plated with silver. Iron and lead and silver together. I am a Faerie. Iron and lead and silver combined break Fae magic. It forced me bak to me natural state, took away me magic. Made me a horse. A simple, unmagical, horse with a horn. I twere helpless. I could no fight. I could no speak. Even me silver horn vanished. I twere nothing but an ordinary, little pony because of Faerie Iron bonds. And ya saw that. Ya rescued me from them, not knowing I twere a Unicorn, not seeking any reward. Ya rescued me and when I changed back into a unicorn, ya just let me go. Because yis good and kind, with an innocent heart.”
“Any one would have done the same.”
“No. I twere their prisoner for years. Many people saw me and dids nothing. People paid money to come look at me. A Phooka in a cage. They sawed off me horn to grind to powder, to sell to alchemists, and when it grew back, they sawed it off again. Hundreds of people and not one ever stopped to help me. I is a Unicorn, had they known, they in their greed would has stopped, not to help me, but to steal me away for themselves. Had ya known I twere a Unicorn, ya still would has helped and set me free. Because is innocent of heart and mind. Ya lack selfishness and greed.”
“I am a murderer.”
“I knows and it grieves ya something terrible. Most men take great joy in each and every life they takes, but yis filled with guilt. It crushes ya. Ya hate what ya has ah'comin'. Yis filled with remorse. Most men ain't. Most men does no fucking cares and find ways to justify what they've done so they can sleep at night. Ya does no do that. Yis different, Quaraun. Ya not evil Quaraun.”
“I am evil.”
“No, yis not. Ya could no capture a Unicorn, if ya twere evil.”
“I have not captured you.”
“Ya has, ya just do no realize it yet.”
“You was captured before. By the Demons. By The Ghoul. He captured you not me.”
“Aye, and they twere evil, or rather the one who held me in a cage twere. The Ghoul tweren't the one who captured me. Evil sorcerer. The one who captured me, twere murdered by them, while protecting me from them. I twere wounded. Me horn twere broken. Me power lays in me horn. If me horn breaks, I lose me powers. I were not the only one he had. There were many. White stallions. He killed all the unicorns. We extint now. I be last one. And I is undead. He harvested our horns, but ya can only do it so many times before the horn stops growing back, and once that happened, then he cut out our hearts. He was a Unicorn Hunter. He killed thousands of us. Without me horn, I am but a horse. They broke it off. A new will regrow, if it is not pulled out from the root. But even though I twere captured, I twere never tamed, the Unicorn is tameable only by a virgin with a pure and innocent heart.”
“In one of his notebooks Leonardo da Vinci wrote: The unicorn, through its intemperance and not knowing how to control itself, for the love it bears to fair maidens forgets its ferocity and wildness; and laying aside all fear it will go up to a seated damsel and go to sleep in her lap, and thus the hunters take it”
“Aye. Tis true. I is wild and feral, but I can no resit the purity and innocence of a virgin woman.”
“I am not a female. No matter how I live my life, I was born male.”
“What does that mean?”
“Ya has the soul of a fenale, born into a male's body. It that JellyFish in ya head that causeing it. Does no matter what ya got hanging doun there atween ya legs, yis a female. And ya knows yis, just look at the way yis dressit. Ain't no male dare dress like ya does. Hell, ain't many prostitutes dare dress like ya does. Yis so innocent that ya does no realize what ya do to men when yis dressit like that. And yis a three hundred year old virgin, or ya twere when ya first wander into me Forest of No Return. Cureds ya of that horrible lifestyle.”
“You don't like virgins, much do you?”
“Oh on the contrary, I loves virgins. They is wickit tasty if ya eats them moments eftah they has lost their virginity to ya.”
“Are you going to eat me?”
“No. No reason to. Yis innocent.”
“I don't understand.”
“Ya has no wish to capture me, and thus ya has captured me.”
“I know. I has lived thousands of years and in that time, thousands of villages has sent thousands of virgins me way, in hopes of capturing me. They twere virgins, yes, but innocent no. A sexless body does no mean an innocent mind. So I pretended to be captured, got into their heads, found out what kind of sick, devilishly, deviant sexual desires they had, transformed meself into the man of their dreams, raped the daylights out of them following after all their deviant desires, then turned back into a unicorn, stabbed them to death with me horn and eat them. The virgins must be both innocent and pure of heart, in addition to be'an virgin. Just because one has never had sex, does not mean, one in innocent of mind and pure of heart. Yis the first virgin I has ever meet with had all three of the requirements. And fucking ya out of ya mind does no good, ya still innocent and pure and that my dear Elf, that over powers the virgin requirement. Ya could have a thousand times and still have an innocent mind. It not ya virginity that make ya a powerful wizard Quaraun, it ya innocent mind. And now that ya no more a virgin, I can teach ya sex magic, make ya even more powerful then ya already is. Ya know that be why BoomFuzzy came eftah ya. He did'na be desiren ya to fall in love with him, he twere trying to corrupt ya and make ya evil, to break the damned spell ya cast on him, with ya purity and innocence. He gone and turned ya into a murdering fiend, with sexual desires for a dead Elf that twere never real Elf to begin with, and ya still has that damed innocent mind and pure heart binding him to ya. And ya with ya devotion to ya virginity. Do ya has any idea how frustrating it is trying to get ya in bed me? I spent three hundred years trying to bed ya. Ya just does no like sex.”
“I’m asexual. I don't like sex. I have no interest in it at all.”
“I know. BoomFuzzy knows. I has been trying to get ya in bed with me for three hundred years now. I has been men and women and Elves and Humans and Gnomes and Dwarves and Thullids and Demons and everything else I could think of. I has been following ya for three hundred years and ya just ain't sexually attracted to anything. Except horses, apparently.”
“I'm a wizard of the Di'Jinn order. I took a vow of celibacy.”
“I know. A priestly order of wizards who believe they'll lose their powers if they ever has sex. Most of them is eunuchs. Ain't got the strength to with stand sexual urges, so they has to slice their dick and balls off, but not you. Oh! No! Ya can retain ya cock and balls and never even think aboot sex for centuries. Ya does not even masturbate. What is wrong with ya?”
“I'm devoted to the goal of being the most powerful wizard of all time.”
“BoomFuzzy twere the closet I ever came, ya liked BoomFuzzy. Had BoomFuzzy stuck around long enough, I probably could has gotten ya in his bed.”
“You do know I had a wife and I've fathered four children? I've not technically been a virgin for a long time.”
“She raped ya.”
“Yes she did.”
“Twas a forced marriage, and they held ya down while she raped ya for those four royal heirs. Yas a king’s blood in ya. They did no want ya as their king. That had to make sure ya had an heir to take ya place before they killed ya.”
“It took four tries to get a male. Once they had a male, they left me alone.”
“Other then them doing that, did ya ever have sex with her willingly?”
“No. We didn’t even live together. She lived in the palace with my father and uncle. I made my tent and set it up where BoomFuzzy’s house used to be.”
“Rape does no count. Ya still a virgin, even if yis raped. That be why ya trying to kill the Lich. Yis sexually attracted to the Lich. Yis weird, Quaraun. Ya like hasing sex wid dead things.”
“I'm a Necromancer.”
“And ya apparently got a thing for Humans what be black as the Earl of Hell’s Waistcoat, eh? I dids no has that much trouble getting in bed with ya this time. I'll has to keep this form. It makes ya horny.”
“It does. You are very attractive right now. It seems to be why I can't escape you.”
“Ya never tried to get away. I does no think ya really wanted to. When I fucked ya, ya did'na do a thing to stop me, ya did'na even struggle gainst me. Ya always has a'forah, even with BoomFuzzy. As much as ya liked him, ya'd ever let him fuck ya.”
“It certainly wasn't from lack of trying on his part. He never stopped touching me. He always had his hands between my legs. Half the time he acted like he was gonna rape me.”
“But him never dids.”
“No. He didn't. I never understood why, either, because he defiantly wanted too. It’s all he talked about.”
“Because, ya would has still been a virgin even if he raped ya. Ya had to give into him willingly to break the spell a virgin puts on a Unicorn when they capture it.”
“And now that I've let you fuck me, is the spell broken?”
Unicorn shook his head.
“No. I is still ya prisoner. Yis in love with BoomFuzzy. It not be lust that drove ya to let me use ya, it be love. Pure, innocent love. Yis in love with BoomFuzzy, ya has no desire for sexual pleasures other then to please BoomFuzzy. Ya not asexual, yar demisexual. That’s different. Means ya have no interest in sex and ya only have sex with the person ya love to satisfy them, not you. Which means now I is still ya prisoner. Yis too damned unselfishly innocent even when it comes to losing ya virginity. Because ya can'na stop thinking aboot BoomFuzzy, ya did'na try to escape, nor dids ya try to stop me. I would has stopped if ya had, but ya did'na. In fact ya acted like ya wanted it more then I dids. I am old and weak and nearly blind. I will not regain my Lich powers until I has regenerated. I never over powered ya, I does not have the strength. Any power ya thought I had over ya twere all ya head. Ya could have walked out of here at any time, but ya lust for BoomFuzzy kept ya here. Ya wanted to be with BoomFuzzy so wickit bad that ya no leave. Ya never ett me Faerie food, ya were never really under me power.”
“You've been giving me apricots the whole time.”
“Aye, but they is real apricots. Not Fae Food. Ya could has stopped me at any time. And I kind of got the impression ya knew that. How come dids ya not?"
"I suppose, you are right I didn't really want to."
"I've been alone a long time and you… I don't know. You feel familiar. Like I've known you for years. I can't explain it. I do love BoomFuzzy. You remind me of him."
"Ah, and there be that stupid, innocence of yas. Thullids is the mega brains of the galaxy and they went and stuck ya in the head of a retarded Elf, ya eat the Elf's brain and it went and corrupted you own brain. Ya can'na see what is right in front of ya face. I remind ya of BoomFuzzy ya say. More then once. I is BoomFuzzy. We already confirmed that! But ya got that short term memory problem still. Ya know what means? It mean tomorrow ya’ll forget any of this happened and ya’ll go back to t’inking ya a virgin all over again. Way ya memory is, I could take ya virginity every damned day and the next day ya’d never know it happened.”
“That’s true. We could have sex day for an eternity and it’d be the first time for me every time.”
“Can ya even rememmber now, what I did to ya last night?”
“No. I’m sorry. My brain’s damaged.”
“How is it ya remember BoomFuzzy?”
Quaraun pulled a small wooden box out of his bag. In the box, where dozens of tiny glass bottles.
“I keep anything I want to remember in here.”
”Those the bottles the Pixie stole?”
“What is in them?”
Quaraun pulled a bottle out and handed it to Unicorn.
“This one’s yours. I kept it for you.”
The Phooka took the tiny bottle and stared at it, not knowing what he should do with it.
“What is it?”
“Open it. You’ll see.”
Unicorn opened to bottle. A pink miasmic mist swirled out of it. Followed by a thundering crash, as a giant life sized gingerbread house, came crashing down from the clouds and landed in the field before themselves.
”It is me house. I wondered where it went. Ya’ve kept me house shrunk down in a bottle all these years?”
“So I wouldn’t forget. I never wanted to forget BoomFuzzy. I forget everything. Days, sometimes hours after it happens. I loved BoomFuzzy, but I knew I’d forget him, like I forget everything. When he was alive, he was there every day, so every day I knew I’d wake up and remember I loved him. But after he died… I started to forget. I couldn’t let myself forget him. He meant too much to me.”
This novel was originally written on: 2007 & 2009 & 2012
This page last updated on: April 07, 2017
INTRODUCTION TO THE SERIES
The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane
(Added March 29, 2016)
EelKat Wendy Christine Allen
UPDATE: The Old Orchard Beach Town Hall has handed me a court order requiring I place a warning in my books, warning you that they have their heads stuck up their asses, I mean, warning you that this book was written by a non-white transgender author and contains non-white, LGBTQ characters, which the straight, white citizens of Old Orchard Beach find offensive because they never before took their heads out of their asses long enough to notice that there exist in this world non-white people and gay transgender men. The HORROR I have forced them to discover, when they took their heads out of their asses long enough to discover a non-white, transgender author has lived in their town since 1975!
As of January 4, 2016 ALL gay, transgender, and non-white authors, living in the white power, gay-hating town of Old Orchard Beach, Maine are now required to add a warning to the front of their books, warning readers that this book is a vile, evil, perversion of their senses because it contains non-white, minority, transgender, and or gay characters who by their very existence according to the white power, gay hating residents of the 99.9% white town of Old Orchard Beach, Maine do not deserve to live and should not be included as characters in books.
Because I am a vile, evil, non-white, transgender author who lives in Old Orchard Beach, Maine, I am now required by court order to place warning in my books, to warn readers that this book was written by a vile, evil, non-white, transgender author and there for may contain references to my vile, evil, non-white, transgender lifestyle, including to, shock, and horror, ACTUALLY CONTAIN
oh, my, my, my, how evil of me to consider writing a book with a person of colour in it. And even worse, is the fact that...wait for it...
I've gone so far as to allow gay transvestite characters to be in my books.
How shockingly evil of me to offend the citizens of Old Orchard Beach, by including gay and transgender characters in my book. I have forced them to have to discover the horror that there exists non-white people in our town, and worse, have made them suffer the horrors of learning that LGBTQ citizens have the right to live. How evil of me. To punish me for the publication of the book you are now reading, they filled my home with sewage 3 feet deep and cut the heads off of my cats, drove a backhoe over my house, then beat me up and left me paralyzed for 5 months, during which time they hacked my online accounts of Kboards, NaNoWriMo, Twitter and other places and impersonated me, posting lots of shitty crap to try to discredit me and destroy my reputation. If you are one of my long time readers and followers, you no dought saw what transpired on KBoards and NaNoWriMo (I did not see it and still do not know what happened, seeing how I was in the hospital dying, while the hacker was taking over my accounts online.)
18 months later I am out of the wheelchair, relearning to walk and still refusing to unpublish my evil books containing non-white gay men and so now they have gotten a court order demanding the warning you are now reading, be placed in this book, because the Old Orchard Beach Town Hall (the plaintiff named on the court order – YES – an actual United States Government Organization has issued this civil rights violating court order, in blatant disregard to federal laws) believes that non-whites and gays and transgender citizens are so evil that they QUOTE “ought to be shot in the head” UNQUOTE.
The book you are now holding contains non-white characters, of the same vile, evil non-white race as the non-white author who wrote this book and because I am not white and have chosen to include non-white characters in this book, I am now required by court order to warn my non-white readers that this book was written by evil, vile non-white me and contains evil, vile non-white characters that will offend your holier then though piece of shit white asses. There, I am now in compliance with the white power, gay hating town of Old Orchard Beach's, civil rights violating court order. White trash has now been warned that non-white trash exists in this book.
The book you are now holding contains LGBTQ characters, of the same vile, evil LGBTQ existence as the LGBTQ who wrote this book and because I am LGBTQ and have chosen to include LGBTQ characters in this book, I am now required by court order to warn my LGBTQ readers that this book was written by evil, vile LGBTQ me and contains evil, vile LGBTQ characters that will offend your holier then though piece of shit straight asses. There, I am now in compliance with the white power, gay hating town of Old Orchard Beach's, civil rights violating court order. Straight trash has now been warned that non-straight trash exists in this book.
If you have any questions regarding this court order which violates the civil rights of people of colour, minority races, and LGBTQ citizens, please head to the State of Maine, Biddeford District Court and ask for copies of
Docket #BDDC-PA-2015-00574 and CV-15-58/CV-15-59
the Alfred Superior Court Docket #CV-15-299
and the Portland Superior Law Court Docket #YOR-15-253
Additionally, you can find more information by going to the Old Orchard Beach Police Department and requesting copies of ALL police reports made in regards to 144, 146, and 146a Portland Avenue, from 2001 to 2016 (approximately 300 reports).
Note, that the court order includes 4 interesting facts:
1: It states that transgender people in Old Orchard Beach are not allowed to own cats; the Town Manager confiscated my cats on this basis (the judge granted this). 140 families in Old Orchard Beach had a grand total of more then 500 cats taken from them via this court order. Many of those cats are being returned to their owners, one head nailed to their door at a time.
2: It states that transgender vehicles are not allowed in the town of Old Orchard Beach and specifically that The Transgender Awareness Tour Bus be removed from the "perimeters of the family friendly town of Old Orchard Beach" (the judge denied this)
3: It states that transgender authors, not be allowed to publish books featuring transgender characters, and contains a list of books, deemed "Too gay for Old Orchard Beach" that the Town Hall requested be removed from publication. The judge ordered the removal and unpublication of 27 of my books, and that the rest have this warning placed in them.
4: That LGBTQ, non-white, non-Christians, and Muslims, not be allowed to set foot in Old Orchard Beach (with one motel owner in particular claiming his right to confiscate the homes, property, and business of some 140 families in Old Orchard Beach, by right of his desire to put condominiums on each of their properties. Interestingly, this is the same man who drove a backhoe over my house in 2013.) Part of this was passed, with the judge ordering LGBTQ families not allowed to set foot in their own homes (not rentals or apartments - houses they owned outright and owed no taxes or mortgages on, with 140 families be forced out of their homes on January 4, 2016. He dropped the request to confiscate homes of LGBTQ citizens when FBI Agent Andy Drewer Arrived to investigate him and the 5 businesses he owns, for his connection to the bomb that blew up my house in 2006.) Three court houses later a different judge overruled the first judge's civil rights violating order, with LGBTQ citizens being allowed to go home October 18, 2016, after 10 months of living in their cars.
Want to know the names, phone numbers, business locations, and home addresses of all the cat murdering, transphobic, gay-hating, white powered people who are trying to ban all LGBTQ and non-white citizens from Old Orchard Beach? Then go to those 3 court houses and request to get copies of all 700 pages of The Too Gay For Old Orchard Beach Court Case of Old Orchard Beach vs Wendy Christine Allen.
All names and contact information of all the white power, gay hating town hall officials, police officers, public works workers, motels, businesses, motel owners, business owners, and the KKK's own lawyers, behind this introduction now required to being added to books containing gay or non-white characters can be found in those court orders and police reports, here after collectively known as “The Too Gay For Old Orchard Beach Court Case” or #TooGayForOOB for short.
In those court dockets you will find more then 700 pages of utterly fascinating civil rights violating, animal abusing, hate crime glorifying, anti-gay, white power, transphobic lunacy. I highly recommend you get copies of those court dockets and see for yourself, the REALITY of how utterly insane the gay hating, white power mentality of Old Orchard Beach, really is.
Or if you want to meet me at Staples, and are willing to pay however much it costs to have 700 pages of copies made, you can get copies made of my copy of the court order.
Welcome to Maine, where love wins, everywhere, except in the white power, gay-hating town of Old Orchard Beach. TIP: If you are looking for a great fun summer family vacation spot this summer: avoid the transphobic, animal abusing, gay hating, white power town of Old Orchard Beach. This town is only family friendly, IF your family qualifies as a “real family” which to them means: you are white, Christian, and have no connections to LGBTQ people whatsoever. Save your hard earned money and DO NOT come to Old Orchard Beach this summer. Don't bother wasting your hard earned money on the transphobic, animal abusing, gay hating, white power trash that thinks it's okay to discriminate against people based on race, gender, religion, or colour.
There. Now I am in compliance with the court order and you, my dear reader have been warned that this book was written by evil, vile, perverted non-white, non-straight little old me and contains non-white, gay, transvestite characters. Can I ask: Have you EVER seen a book ANYWHERE that the author's town required the author to place a warning in the book, for ANY reason? Can anyone say RIDICULOUS? Yes, the town of Old Orchard Beach is being utterly ridiculous. I think they forgot that Old Orchard Beach is a town in America and not it's own country.
So, if you are a transphobic, gay-hating, white power person who is offended by the existence of transvestites, gays, non-Christians, people of colour, and other things that tick off white power mentalities, then you probably want to avoid these books.
For everybody else who isn't a white power, transphobic, gay-hating jerk with their head stuck up their own white, Christian ass: I hope you enjoy reading these books as much as I have enjoyed writing them. And for those of you who don't enjoy this sort of book, well, enjoy those knee-jerks, I'm told you guys should be expecting quite a few of them.
End of introduction.
What do you want to become?
What did you do today to step closer to that goal?
Whatever you do, be your best at it!
And remember to have yourself a great and wonderfully glorious day!
Evil men go out of their way to try to drive a person to suicide.
Are you an evil man?
Are you sure you're not?
How many people have YOUR hate filled words killed?
Next time you go to do a mean thing to a fellow human, stop and really think about the consequences of your actions.
Did you ever notice how every one has a story to tell about me, yet not one of them ever speaks the truth?
What lies has YOUR gossiping tongue spread about me?
Did you know...
October 16, 2006, bomb blew up my house because of YOUR lies.
August 8, 2013, the house which replaced the one the bomb blew up, was driven over by a backhoe.
November 14, 2013, my 8 month old infant son was murdered because of your lies.
November 14, 2013, I was beaten up, paralized for 5 months, spent 18 weeks relearning to walk, I'm now crippled for the rest of my life, because of YOUR lies.
Are you proud of what you have done?
Enjoy your eternity in Hell. You earned it. You've certainly worked hard for it.
If you have any information about any of these events, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322
You never saw the room Ben and my mother kept me locked in for 27 years from the time I was 8 years old, the one Etiole used to break me out of? Well here you go, photos of it from the 2007 FBI and police reports, THIS is the "room", my mother designed it, my father built it, Bruce hired the priests of the Cape Elizabeth, Saco, and Sanford ward Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints to rape me in it... from the time i was 8 until 12, when Ben aka the High Priest came along and declared I was his and from the time i was 12 until 31 Ben kept me in this room only allowing me out on Sundays to attend church. still wonder why I hate the Atwaters? When I was 37 years old the FBI showed up and started the investigation into the trafficking ring the Atwaters ran out of 37 Smithwheel Road and 144 Portland Ave, Maine, this room was a pivotal piece of evidence that was roped off and no one allowed in it because of the FBI investigation... that's why the backhoe that ran over this room August 8, 2013 is such a very big importance... THIS room is what the backhoe was trying to hide. Look close at the floor, you can see the bones of the children who didn't survive.
I'm a survivor of adults who thought selling children to priests was a good income and this room was the biggest piece of evidence the FBI had until the backhoe drove over the house and carried off the remained, doing the biggest tampering of evidence of a fucking murder investigation ... that's WHY the backhoe drove over the house, because the Atwaters were desperate to hide the evidence of this rooms existence, and that's WHY they started the alien abduction hoax about me and Etiole because they thought if they destroyed the room and gaslighted me by spread alien abduction rumors, they thought they could convince everyone i was crazy for saying i was locked in this room for 27 years... but they didn't know before they did that, that the FBI had already been in the room and has HUNDREDS of photos of every inch of it. It was not the only place like this. These Atwater run child trafficking "rooms" have been found in twenty-one states. The FBI has shut down 14 of these child trafficking rings run by the Atwaters. If you support the Atwaters in any way, THIS is what you are supporting. When you send money to an Atwater run fund raiser, you funding building more rooms like this one. That's what they do with your hard earned money. Rooms like this, where small children, are raped and starved. And because the children have no birth records, no ID, they live and die without a paper trail. They exist to be raped daily, until they have their first period and risk getting pregnant, and they the room is locked not to be opened again, until they starve to death. Most die before their 12th birthday.
I'm a survivor, and I survived because of Etiole, because while HUNDREDS of people in Old Orchard Beach, Maine knew of this room, used this room, he was the only person with the moral decency to be horrified by this room and try to stand up to the Atwaters, and try the help the children. He used to break in and try to rescue me. Took me out into the swamps of the Ross Forest. But the Atwaters always found me and took me back.
To discredit me, when I was 14 years old, and escaped to the local police and tried to get help, the Atwaters made up a terrible story: they lied to the police. They told the police, there was no room, and Etiole was a figment of my imagination, they called him a demon at first, and later they called him an alien. The Atwaters spread a horrific lie, telling people that I was an alien abductee. And depending on WHICH Atwater you talked to the story changed wildly: sometimes Etiole was a evil spirit, other times a cryptid, other times a demon, but most often "The Amphibious Alien".
We had a neighbor back in the 1970s, his name was Stephen King, he wrote about us. My Gypsy family, my car, me, and Etiole. He filmed two movies on our farm, but never once tried to help the children he wrote about. He never tried to help us children, even though his books and movies today exist as evidence that he was well aware of this room and Etiole. Instead, he profited off of our pain and suffering, while 120 of those children were saw up and their bones dumped in the Goosefare Broke Ravine in the Reclaim Blueberry Plains of the Ross Forest of Old Orchard Beach, Maine... bones confiscated by the FBI in June 2016, which led to the arrest of many of the child traffickers at 37 Smithwheel Rod, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, that same year.
Meanwhile The Atwaters continued to spread their lies about me and Etile, contacting hundreds of alien and UFO and cryptid organizations telling them I was abducted by aliens and Etiole was that alien. Only I have no clue what they were doing and I had never heard of the concept of aliens or cryptids or UFOs, and so I had no clue what MUFON and the UFO nuts were talking about, when they showed up on my farm to interview me and try to catch Etiole, calling him an EBE.
There are no aliens.
There are no demons.
There are no evil spirits.
There are no haunted cars.
There was just this room, and the children raped by Mormon priests... Mormon Priests, known as The Atwaters... Mormon Priests who invented the urban myth of a haunted car and a child abducted by aliens, for one reason, and one reason only: to make the children crazy, if those children ever dared tell people about this room.
Rooms like the one at 144 Portland Ave, 146 Portland Ave, and 37 Smithwheel Road, exist all over the State of Maine, and the 3 the FBI shut down in Old Orchard Beach, ran from the 1950s until 2016. I was put in this room in 1983. That's why I have no knowledge of any world event, any movie, and TV show, and books, anything that occurred between 1983 and 2010.
ALL of the children who survived these rooms, ALL of them, have been slandered the same way the Atwaters slandered me and Etiole. Each with stories of aliens and demons. Thirty-one of those survivors, have commit suicide, all who escaped, killed themselves within 3 years because of the alien abduction lies the Atwaters spread about them, alien abduction lies that are no different then the alien abduction lies the Atwaters spread about me and Etiole.
Yes, I am EelKat, Etiole’s friend, but I don’t know why you call me that, because it’s the other way around. He was my friend. He was my ONLY friend. He was the only person in this godforsaken town of Old Orchard Beach, Maine, who did not value money or sex over the lives of children.
There are ONE group of people who call me an alien abductee. The Atwaters and their evil, child raping church group. They call me an alien abductee, simple as a gaslighting method, of trying to make me sound crazy, so you won’t look at what they are doing to children. They try to make all the children they torture look crazy, so that no one will believe the child when child tells an adult about the rooms or the rape. Trust NO ONE who calls me an alien abductee, because THEY are involved in a very big child trafficking ring.
I am not an alien abductee and I never claimed to be, and if anyone ever told you I was, you should look at them with suspicion and ask what they did, that they are trying to make you look somewhere else, to not see what they are doing.
There are ONE group of people who call Etiole an alien. The Atwaters and their evil, child raping church group. They call him an alien, simple as a gaslighting method, of trying to make me sound crazy, when I was 8 years old said an old man broke into the room and took me into the swamps; they call him an alien so you won’t look at what they are doing to children. They try to make all the children they torture look crazy, so that no one will believe the child when child tells an adult about the rooms or the rape. Trust NO ONE who calls Etiole an alien, because THEY are involved in a very big child trafficking ring.
Etiole is not an alien and I never said he was, and if anyone ever told you he was, you should look at them with suspicion and ask what they did, that they are trying to make you look somewhere else, to not see what they are doing.
He is a local homeless French Jewish man, whom I let sleep in my car on rainy nights so that he can stay dry. Retarded locals think he is a demon or alien or whatever else they call him, because he is covered in scars and burns and Kabalic tattoos and number tattoos from being a concentration camp survivor from WW2.
You can see video footage of his living conditions:
and HERE. These videos where filmed in 2022
As you can see from the videos, this homeless man whom my sick jackass Uncle Bruce has spent DECADES harassing, has NOTHING, he LITERALLY is living in a hole he dug with his fingernails, in the sand under a fallen tree, and you can see from these videos WHY I let him sleep in my car, and WHY the shit heads of Old Orchard Beach and Biddeford Maine who are harassing this homeless man, calling him a cryptid, calling him an alien, calling him an evil spirit, are scumbag pieces of shit who don't deserve the life god gave them.
The Atwaters and their church group are evil, and if you believe their lies about me or Etiole, then you've fallen for their scam, just like they wanted you to do.
There is right now, in October of 2023, a group of people actively going to houses, store, bars, and restaurants throughout Biddeford and Old Orchard Beach, randomly approaching total strangers and and saying "Have you heard about EelKat?" And then going on some spiel involving wild radical tales of demons, aliens, haunted cars, cats, about 40 people near as we can tell, led by an elderly white haired man who drives a dark green pick up truck and a very fat, extremely morbidly obese blond woman about late 30s/early 40s, who people in the area have dubbed "porch bitch" because she goes from porch to porch all over Biddeford screaming from strangers' porches to walkers on the sidewalk, always screaming "Have you head about EelKat?" usually referencing also my Volvo. The FBI believes these two to be the husband and daughter of the woman who murdered my son. If you know who the white haired man or "porch bitch" are, the FBI is actively seeking information about their identity.
I am legally blind, I have never seen either of these people, so I do not know what they look like, I only know what witnesses are telling me they looked like when they showed up at their homes. I also have Kannar's Syndrome, real and actual (non-verbal, low functioning) Autism (not to be confused with high functioning Aspergers; I am only able to communicate by typing, and so here I am, typing, so I am unable to verbally respond to what these people are telling me. I have agoraphobia so, it is often months between me setting foot outside, but I am crippled with a broken spine from the November 14, 2013 attack of the golf club woman who crippled me when she murdered me son and thus I also can not get out of bed or stand up unaided. I do not know who either porch bitch or the white haired man these people are telling me is approaching them are. My son's murderer whom also crippled me, she I can identify if she ever got close enough again, but these two people whom are suspected of being her husband and daughter, I have not seen and can not identify. When you come to me and tell me they have approached you, you do nothing useful or helpful. I can not take YOUR testimony to the police or FBI, because it is YOUR testimony, not mine. YOU have to tell the POLICE and FBI what these people did. Do not come to me and tell me, because other then post this message here, there is nothing else I can do with the information you have provided.
There is some speculation that porch bitch may in fact live in my apartment building here at 409 Main Street in Biddeford, but I have lived here since February 2019, and of the 9 other families here, only one of them has lived here longer than me. Between the 9 families in our building, there are more then people living in this building and to date, I have met none of them.
Initially I had tried to introduce myself to each family in this building however, they are white and I am not, they are Christians and I am Moron/Voodoo, and this Maine where hatred of all things not white and not Christian are at their worst in the entire country.
White hatred for us Gypsies is very bad here in Maine and many in my family have been beaten, tortured, and murdered by the white Christians of Maine.
Does porch bitch live in our building? I do not know. But many witnesses are now saying they have seen her going in and out of the building, so she either lives here or knows someone who does.
With the extreme anti-Gypsy animosity and anti-Pagan animosity the 9 families who live at 409 Main Street have shown my family since we moved in here on February 2019, I would not be at all surprised if porch bitch not only lived here but the others know it, know what she is doing to my family and are not reporting it to the police simply because, that's what white people do to us non-whites.
Interestingly, witnesses are saying they believe the white haired man with the big green Dodge Ram pickup truck, lives on Portland Ave, very near my farm.
It is deeply disturbing, if this is true, because that means porch bitch and the white haired man are doing very severe levels of stalking, because my family has lived at 146 Portland Ave Old Orchard Beach since the 1530s, we settled and founded the town, and in 2019 when I moved into this apartment in Biddeford, no one else lived in this building, other then the gay couple who are still here and the only ones here longer than me. And also in 2019, there was no white haired man living near me on Portland Ave.
This means, the man suspected of being "Clair's husband and the woman suspected of being "Claire's" daughter, Claire being the name the woman who murdered my son, called herself, have moved in next door to BOTH of my addresses within the last 3 years.
Claire used a golf club to beat my 8 month old son's head in with. If you are protecting Claire, know that THAT is the sort of child murdering bitch you are defending.
Claire's identity is the one we want. We want to know who she is. In 2021 a homeless man showed up in my driveway, claiming he knew who Claire was... 2 days later he was dead on the train tracks and splattered across the back of my house, and 2 days after that, this porch bitch woman showed up. We don't know who any of these people are, not the homeless man, not porch bitch, not Claire. We only got the name Claire, because that's what the bald man with her,November 14, 2013, the day she murdered my son, that's what he called her, and she answered him to that name, like it was her real name.
The Claire who murdered my son, she's who we are looking for... and apparently we got really close in 2021, because that's when porch bitch showed up with her wild alien/demon/cat slander, and she's working over time spreading her slander as far and as wide as she can, making it damn clear, she's scared shitless of us finding out who Claire is.
So, NOW, the FBI is not just asking for information about Claire's identity, they now want the identity of both Biddeford's porch bitch and Old Orchard Beach's white haired elderly man driving the mega, big 2ton dark green Dodge Ram pick up.
These 2 people closing in on my family, DAYS after a witness came forward saying he knew who Claire was, a witness who died 2 days later, before the FBI agents had a chance to talk to him... this is terrifying for my family, and it's deeply disturbing.
Porch bitch and her friends are terrorizing my family. And less then a month ago they killed my dog Mickey. There is something wrong with these people. These are NOT good people.
This is very, very deeply disturbing.
This makes them, in addition to everything else: stalkers.
Keep in mind too, porch bitch is the woman who poisoned and killed my dog Mickey only a few weeks ago. And one week before she poisoned and killed my dog, Mickey, she showed up at PortCon 2023, with a gang of about 12 others, at Round 1 in the Maine Mall, and tried to kill me, by peeling back the cheese on my pizza and loading it up with onions, something I am deadly allergic to. I would have been dead within 15 minutes had I eaten it. Porch bitch is dangerous. And she wants me dead. And she thinks nothing of killing my pets. She's proven that much.
There are HUNDREDS of people throughout Biddeford and Old Orchard Beach contacting me, both online and in person offline, telling me that these people approached them at random. They appear to be hellbent on approaching every single person to set foot in either town, so if you are in Biddeford or Old Orchard Beach you'll likely encounter them sooner or later if you haven't already. They appear to have been doing this since around May 2021, but so far no one knows who they are.
One detail though: porch bitch, has been saying some very specific information about the murder that was NEVER made public, and is not in the police public access report, it's only in the FBI's classified report. The ONLY person who knows this detail is the murderer herself, and porch bitch is too young to be the murderer. The blond golf club woman who attacked me November 14, 2013, was in her late 60s to early 70s, she'd be in her late 70s or early 80s today. Porch bitch is young enough to be her daughter or granddaughter. But porch bitch has been saying information that ONLY the murderer would know, so porch bitch DOES have personal contact with my son's murderer and is probably dangerous herself.
She has information that was never released to the public. Information the police and fbi kept out of public access reports. Information that was kept classified so it could be used to identify the murderer. Information she could only get, from the murderer. She is using 27 Facebook accounts and over 100 Reddit accounts to post that information as far and wide as possible, while gathering up a large group from the Sanford ward church to go around Biddeford and Old Orchard Beach also spreading that classified information, while at the same time spreading the rumors and lies that I am an alien Abducted and Etiole is an alien, while also spreading rumors of my cars being haunted, while also making hundreds of deep fake videos on YouTube about me and my cars and Etiole. She is orchestrating a huge defamation slander smear campaign, which you have seen some of the videos about me and my car. Fbi believes she is the daughter of the golf club bitch who murdered my baby and is doing this because Tod Murphy told the FBI his mother was bragging to be the golf club woman. Porch bitch showed up same time Tod Murphy did, in fall of 2021. The Sanford ward people joined her around May 2022. Fbi is currently investigating every one connected to the Sandford ward, and they now believe the golf club woman to have been a member in 2013. You don't have full details of what porch bitch is doing, who is helping her, and how alarmingly large scale what she is doing is, simply because I can not give you full details. There is a lot of information about porch bitch and her crew that I've not said, things the FBI and police are aware of, and you the general public, don't need to be aware of.
These people are actively and deliberately making a massive attempt to compromise an FBI murder investigation, alongside huge levels of victim shaming.
Porch bitch clearly knows who the murderer is, and the FBI is looking for ANY information you have that leads to identifying porch bitch, because arresting porch bitch, is right now, the #1 best chance of also finding and arresting my son's killer.
Never forget: my son was murdered. That's what they want you to forget. They make up crazy rumors and lies because they want you to think about something, anything OTHER then my son's murder. And the ONLY person with THAT motive, is the golf club wielding blond woman, and anyone who is trying to cover up her crimes.
They want you to forget my son was murdered.
Clearly porch bitch is scared shitless that the killer, someone she knows, will be arrested soon, or she wouldn't be so hyper vigilant in her mega extreme slander campaign going on in Biddeford, Maine right now.
Beware of ANYONE who calls Etiole an alien, for he is not an alien and they are lying to you about him, as a slight of hand means of misdirection, to turn you away from seeing their own crimes.
Beware of anyone who tells you I believe in aliens, for I do not, and they are lying to you in a gaslighting technique meant to keep you from noticing the crimes they commited.
Trust no one who tells you I cast curses or consort with demons, for I do neither, and they say these things to you out of malicious motives, to make you look at anything other than themselves. They don't want you to see the sins they do, so they spread wild and bizarre rumors about me and an elderly homeless veteran, in a magicians pallor trick of misdirection. They use me and Etiole as their smoke and mirrors, so that you are looking the other way, while they get away with heinous crimes.
Beware of anyone who calls me a witch, for I am a Mormon, 5th generation, and we Mormons do not believe in witchcraft.
I need not tell you their names, for by their own actions, they will reveal themselves to you.
Pay very close attention to anyone who approaches you to "warn you" about EelKat... because remember too, my name is not EelKat. My name is Wendy Christine Allen. EelKat is a fictional character, a talking back fairy cat, from a Space Fantasy novel. Miss Citten The Eel Kat is Empress of Planet Ptarmagin and she travels to distant galaxies in a star ship, collecting deep space eels from other planets, her name is unpronounceable, so people call her "The Eel Kat" because she is the cat who has pet eels. The book was titled "Friends Are Forever" and it was published in 1978. You have to be severely mentally disabled in order to think that a talking space cat from a Fantasy novel is real, let alone be crazy enough to think that the author is that character. The very fact alone that porch bitch refers to ME as EelKat, that alone tells you the deeply disturbed fantasy prone mental case we are dealing with her. Her inability to discern fiction from reality, and he belief that I, a real person, an EelKat, a fictional space cat from a novel, or her belief that a local homeless veteran, is an alien, or her belief that my Dodge or my Volvo are demon possessed, that alone tells you what type of incredibly dangerous psychopath porch bitch really is.
You can see video footage of his living conditions:
THAT is the homeless veteran, this woman is calling an alien or a demon, depending on which delusion she is babble that day. THAT is Etoile. THAT is how he lives. THAT is who this deplorable woman is harassing.
Pay very close attention to anyone who approaches you to "warn you" about EelKat or otherwise tries to convince you I have anything to do with aliens, demons, curses, or witches, for they are deceiving you, and they do so, to draw your attention away from themselves.
Never forget, my son was murdered on November 14, 2013, and the killer still walks free, and anyone telling you anything about aliens, demons, curses, or witches, has one goal and one goal only: a flagrant attempt to discredit me, and protect my son's murderer.
They ONLY want you to think about aliens to make you forget my son was murdered.
The FBI is looking for my son's killer AND the identity of the people who are trying to hinder their investigation.
If anyone approaches you and tells you Etiole is an alien CALL FBI Agent Andy Drewer and tell him who they are. They ONLY want you to think about aliens to make you forget my son was murdered.
If anyone approaches you and tells you that I believe in aliens CALL FBI Agent Andy Drewer and tell him who they are. They ONLY want you to think about aliens to make you forget my son was murdered.
If anyone approaches you and tells you Etiole is a demon CALL FBI Agent Andy Drewer and tell him who they are. They ONLY want you to think about demons to make you forget my son was murdered.
If anyone approaches you and tells you that I believe in demons CALL FBI Agent Andy Drewer and tell him who they are. They ONLY want you to think about demons to make you forget my son was murdered.
If anyone approaches you and tells you that I cast curses CALL FBI Agent Andy Drewer and tell him who they are. They ONLY want you to think about curses to make you forget my son was murdered.
If anyone approaches you and tells you that I am a witch CALL FBI Agent Andy Drewer and tell him who they are. They ONLY want you to think about witches to make you forget my son was murdered.
They are going out of their way to try to make you forget my son died, by coming up with ludicrous tales of aliens and demons. And the ONLY person with ANY motive to do that, is the blond woman who murdered my son.
They want you to forget my son was murdered.