Do Black Lives REALLY Matter
to the BLM Rioters?
No.
If Black Lives REALLY Mattered,
to the BLM Protesters,
they would stop and think
about the consequences their actions have...
UPDATE: June 24, 2020: Much sadness, the painting of Erzulie Danta aka The Black Madonna, one of Vudo's Primary Loas was destroyed by BLM vandals :( , she along with her sister Erzulie Freda are my patron saints.
Much sadness, the painting of Erzulie Danta aka The Black Madonna, one of Vudo's Primary Loas was destroyed by BLM vandals :( only 2 days after the destruction of Erzulie Freda aka Immaculate Conception, she along with her sister Erzulie Freda are my patron saints.
Erzulie Danta & Erzulie Freda are 2 of the primary Loa of Voodoo.
They are the 2 wives of Damballah Weddo, The One God, The Great Serpent, The Creator of Life.
White slave owners, would not allow black slaves to worship the Loa. Slave owners brought in Catholic Priests and Nuns to convert the slaves. The slaves took the icons, prayer cards, and paintings the priests and nuns gave them, and gave the Loa, "Catholic names"
Thus Damballah Weddo began to be represented by images of Moses carrying a Brass Serpent, and his wives Erzulie Danta & Erzulie Freda began to be represented by The Black Madonna and The Lady of The Immaculate Conception.
All of the Loa, have Catholic Saints and Martyrs to represent them. It was a way for the slaves to trick the Masters into thinking the slaves were converted to Catholicism, when in fact, Voodoo, or Vuvu as it was called in the 1400 to 1700s, stayed strong in their hearts and the mysteries of the Loa stayed alive.
Today Voodoo is a branch of the Catholic church, and while most Christians call us Pagans or Heathens or worse, we are in fact Christian, and branch of Catholicism.
It's why you see me always with a rosary, which I wear like a necklace, much to the horrors of many Catholics, and why I have so many statues of Mary, Jesus, and the Saints all over my room and my car, and why I have crosses and crucifixes all over my walls, and why I wear veils, mantilla, and hijab.
If you walked in my room, you would immediately assume I was an extremely devout orthodox Catholic, and you'd be wrong.
I am a Voodoo Priestess rank of Medsan Fey Marija Loa to Damballah Weddo and serve the local shrine to Papa Damballah and Erzulies Freda and Danta. This painting was very dear to me.
It means I am married to God, something for which there was an actual wedding, with a wedding dress and everything.
In simpler terms: I'm a nun.
I am married to my god the same way a Catholic nun is married to Christ.
Which is also why sex is not a part of my life.
This painting is a painting that we Voodoo practitioners hold with deep reverence.
The Black Madonna, Erzulie Dantar, Our Dear Sweet Lady of Retribution.
Voodoo Practitioners, follow many things, many paths, many roads, many branches. But with every branch, every form of Voodoo, one thing remains constant: The Black Madonna. There is no Voodoo Practitioner on the planet, who does not have a statue or a prayer card or her dagger through the heart veevee on their prayer alter. She is the mother of life. The mother of us all. The goddess who created life, with Papa Damballah.
This painting is dearly beloved in the Voodoo Community, and now she is destroyed.
The painting was made in 1433, based off of the description of Jesus in the Bible.
The book of Revelations describes Jesus as having roped locks of hair like lambs wool and feet the colour of brass. Jesus was from the southern region of Judea which is in Africa.
Jesus was black. The Bible itself tells us this.
Most images of Jesus and Mary paint them white, blond, blue eyed... but that's not how the Bible described them.
This is one of the few historical images of a Black Jesus and a Black Mother Mary. And most Black people love it dearly. So why would followers of a movement to bring equality to black lives, destroy it?
Or did they? Was it people who hate the BLM movement and so destroyed a symbol near and dear to the hearts of millions in the black community?
Who destroyed this painting?
And why?
BLM graffiti is the only clue.
But is it, BLM because it was done by someone in the BLM movement?
Or was it done by someone against the BLM movement?
No one knows.
No one knows who did this.
My grandmother was half Black *(yes, I am 1/4 Black)* and she loved this painting. She didn't call it The Black Madonna like most people do, she called her Black Baby Jesus. She took a trip over there to see it in person.
Whoever did it, these people should pay heed to history, and to what happened to the pirates who slashed her face. It didn't end well for them.
Our dear Lady of Retribution, wielder of vengeance upon the unjust, may your curse of iniquity fall upon all who cause harm.
She was one of my 2 faves, along with The Immaculate Conception...
Erzulie Danta aka The Black Madonna
Erzulie Freda aka The Immaculate Conception
...and to see them both destroyed 2 days apart from each other is heartbreaking.
Why is the BLM movement attacking the Patron Saint of Slaves? Our Dear Lady of Retribution. Vicious Punisher of the Masters who take away freedom.
She is the symbol of everything the Black Lives Matter movement stands for, so why destroy her?
Do you idiots know nothing?
Do you not know the history of this painting?
Or how it got destroyed by Nazis in World War II... and it remains, rebuilt, in Poland, by Jewish Concentration Camp Survivors.
How many times has she been destroyed since her creation in 1433?
Freed Black Slaves, rebuilt her.
Freed Jews, rebuilt her again.
Why would you destroy the symbol of freedom? The symbol of escape from oppression? The symbol of survival against all odds?
Ignorance and arrogance is a dangerous pairing. This just proves their lack of intelligence. Destroying anything and everything, without knowing what it is.
Do you know, that without this painting, you even have the Black Lives Matter Foundation? Are you aware of the history of the organization you are screaming the name of from the rooftops?
Has anyone else noticed the similarities in behavior with this movement and ISIS or The Ku Klux Klan or The Nazis... destroying anything they don't like, taking control of portions of cities... doing it all in the name of a call to lord over others?
When you destroy history, try to erase it, you will allow it to happen again in future generations. Instead of burying bad parts of history, you should be teaching your children to learn from the mistakes of that history, so history doesn't repeat itself.
Funny thing is... this particular painting... she was hated by the Nazis too. They destroyed her. This is a reproduction that was made in 1945, because Nazis destroyed the original 1433 one.
She was rebuilt, to stand as a testament AGAINST fucking White Power bastards who murdered millions of Jews, Blacks, Gays, and Gypsies.
We Gypsies hail her as our Patron Saint, because she is a strong woman of colour, who survived one of the worst White Power atrocities in history.
If there is any painting out there that should be used as the fucking logo of the BLM movement... THIS IS IT! And you destroy her?
Why?
Regardless of which side destroyed it, you are both acting like ill mannered children.
One side smash and trashes items, then the other side retaliates back with more smash and trash, so the first side smashes more, then then 2nd side smashes back... when will it end? Both sides are acting like idiots right now. Neither side is making the other side look bad, because both sides are too busy making themselves look bad.
The Ku Klux Klan is parading up and down streets in Maine calling BLM protestors monkeys, and, I gotta say... they are kind of right. I mean, monkeys don't have enough brains to know not to smash things, so monkeys run around smashing things. Humans know better then to destroy things, because Humans know how to use their brains.
Think about that!
There should NEVER be a point, when we can say "The Ku Klux Klan is right."
The Ku Klux Klan are horrible people, and right now THEY are the ones in the right! That shouldn't happen! The villain shouldn't be better than the hero, and right now that is what's happening!
Come on people... 2 wrongs don't make a right.
Don't be like them!
Do not lower yourselves to their level.
We are better then this.
You ALL are better then this.
Stand up and prove you are better.
Smashing everything, because they smash everything, how does that make you any better than them?
It doesn't!
It makes you JUST LIKE THEM!
And they are standing out there calling black people monkeys! And I wish I could say they were wrong, but it's kind of hard to do, when you are running around, making mindless grunts, waving spray cans, smashing things up, and FUCKING ACTING LIKE MONKEYS!
You are giving the racists POWER OVER YOU!
That's all the rioting and vandalism is doing.
You are giving power to the fucking white power bastards.
STOP GIVING THEM POWER OVER YOU!
The whole point of the BLM Protests is the SHOW that black people ARE NOT monkeys! To prove that black people ARE humans and deserve to be treated like humans.
They should not be out there chanting "monkey" like that. Yes, they are wrong and it is horrible that they are doing it... but at WHY they are saying it.
They are saying that BECAUSE you are giving them reason to.
Don't prove the Ku Klux Klan to be right about black people... prove them WRONG!
#PROVE THEM WRONG!
Stop giving them power to hate. Stop feeding then fuel to fan their hatred with.
Are you people all so caught up in the frenzy of rioting that you not see yourselves, the way the white power haters see you, right now?
Go to Twitter and look for the hashtag "BLMTerrorists" and spend an hour or two, reading those Tweets.
You really, REALLY, need to look at what you are doing. Look at the message your rioting is sending. LOOK at what they saying about the rioters, the vandals.
They're scared. And that's bad. That's really bad. Because sooner or later, they'll lash back. And it won't be good. It never is.
And look at what the rioters are doing.
It's not just statues anymore.
Did you see the video footage of a mob of rioters who ran into Target, and started smashing up the store with baseball bats, and when an elderly man in his 90s, ran from the store to avoid getting hurt, the mod dragged him to the ground, torn off his Covid19 facemask, starting spitting in his face, while kicking him. That happened this morning.
How about the one that happened Sunday. Another elderly man, this one his 80s, leaving church, heading across the parking lot, going to his car... when a BLM mob, came storming across the parking lot, grabbing anyone they saw and throwing them to the ground. Three men, mauled the old man. Beat unconscious. For no reason. He didn't even see or hear them coming.
That's not right.
That's not protesting.
That's being a gangster.
Mobster.
You know what mobster means, right? It means, being part of mob and beating people up for the fun of it.
That's all this has become. A mob of rioters, beating people up for the fun of it.
It's wrong.
You know it is.
Hurting people is never right.
Violence is not going to solve anything.
Violence is just going to make, people who hate minorities, start to hate minorities even more! That the opposite of what we need or want.
Think!
Use your brains.
Every time you act like mindless animals, you just give the white power lunatics MORE POWER over you!
Don't give them that power. They don't deserve it.
Look at what is happening.... You destroy their works of art, so they fight back, by destroying ours.
Can't you see what you are doing?
LOOK at the swastika across The Black Madonna's face, and the words BLM underneath.
This is wrong on so many levels.
These riots, all vandalism... you'll gain one or two victories, small ones, meaningless ones, you'll get statues moved... but what is the fucking point?
You've lost focus of the BIG PICTURE... which is saving lives.
Taking down a statue is NOT going to save lives.
You people should be in courthouse, filing paperwork, writing dockets, reading law books, and getting laws passed.
You can do that. You don't NEED politicians to do those things. All you need is the make your case, in front of a judge who agrees with you.
That's it.
You don't need violence.
You don't need riots.
You don't need vandalism.
You need law books and enough education to know how to write a docket and word it persuasively, so that you can convince a judge, to sign off on that law and get it passed.
Why are none of you doing THAT?
Violence is NOT the answer.
Hate crimes are not the answer.
Riots are not the answer.
Criminal acts are not the answer.
You'll be no help to anyone if you get arrested and are behind bars.
These protests are NOT peaceful, and you're deluded if you think they are.
Yes, there are dirty cops out there. I've met plenty in my lifetime.
But for every bad cop I've ever meet, I've met dozens of officers who were good.
Taking over police stations, setting fire to police cruisers, beating up police officers, just because they are police officers.... none of this is right. It's terrorism.
Yes, action needs to be taken, but not violent action. Look in the mirror... you people are using acts of terrorism to protest acts of terrorism. That's not right.
You don't fight fire with fire.... all that does is make the fire bigger. You are fanning the flames of hate and making them grow.
You fight fire with water. You put the fire out.
You need to tame the lion of hate, make it a lamb of peace. Sooth it. Teach it to see the error of it's ways. Show it that it can trust you, let it know you won't hurt it. That's win the lion over.
But if you attack the lion, threaten it, hurt it, it'll lash back, fiercer, meaner, far worse than it was to begin with.
Can you not see that?
Can you not see, how all this violence is only stirring the haters up more and teaching them to say to themselves "We was right about them minorities"...
You should be showing the haters, that they are wrong, not that they are right.
Every act of violence committed in the name of "Black Lives Matter" only teaches white people, to hate black people even more.
Don't prove the haters they are right, prove them wrong instead.
What the hell is wrong with you people?
Have you all got your heads shoved so damned far up your asses that you are just going to destroy anything and everything you get near now, even symbols like THIS, that you should be hailing as one of the greatest memorials in tribute to people of colour?
She is a tribute AGAINST fucking White Supremacists.... don't you idiots know that?
Or is that EXACTLY the point?
No one saw who did this.
And it happened after so many statues were torn down, statues of white men, torn down by black men.
Are we now seeing here White Supremacists "fighting back"?
It's possible.
But I wonder... how many of the BLM Protesters have ever faced REAL racism face to face?
How many of them, have ever been attacked by the REAL and ACTUAL Ku Klux Klan?
Look at the memes on Twitter, showing supposed KKK pictures... people in white pillow cases with holes cut out.
That is NOT the REAL Ku Klux Klan... you know right?
GOOGLE THE FUCKING BASTARDS! Find out what they REALLY look like, what they REALLY wear.
They wear miter hats, with veils on the front, and long heavily embroidered and beaded white robes, with large red crosses on their capes. Their outfits are EXACT REPLICAS of the Catholic Pope's robes and hat.
It's not a white pointy pillowcase.
Also, ONLY the leaders wear white.
The rest of the members, wear colours based on rank. Green Robes, Red Robes, Blue Robes, Yellow Robes, Black Robes... the REAL card-carrying members of the Ku Klux Klan, DO NOT WEAR WHITE!
There are 200,000 active card-carrying members of the REAL Ku Klux Klan, living in Maine. The largest concentration of them in one place, on the entire planet.
And they are actual terrorists. They build bombs. They murder children. They skin people alive, hang them in trees, and leave them there to bleed to death and long slow death that takes weeks to happen.
And they DO NOT WEAR WHITE!
The fakes as white robes and pillow case hoods, are a thing that was created by Hollywood Movies... it's NOT a thing that exists in the REAL world.
Fake ass wanna-bes, wear white robes and white pillow cases, because they never saw a REAL KKK member and they don't know shit about the REAL Ku Klux Klan. They dress up in white robes and put pillow cases on their heads, because that is what MOVIES tell people the Ku Klux Klan does.
That's how you can tell the fake ass wanna-bes from the REAL Ku Klux Klan. And if you have ever seen them face to face, you'd have known that.
My first encounter with the Ku Klux Klan... I was 14 years old. Me and 5 other children were kidnapped and tortured.
Anastasia was just 4 years old. A toddler. They ripped off her leg. Doing so, pulled her intestines out, and spilled her partly digested breakfast all over the floor.
Then they just left her there.
It took her a week to die.
Tajid... they beat his chest, crushed his lungs. He saved my life. Those blows were meant for me. He got between me and them. He died 2 days later.
I survived.
July 1, 2001. A backhoe drove my house while my family was gone to the movies. We rebuilt.
February 14, 2003, my doctor's office, First Care Health Clinic, Saco Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine... was blown up with a bomb. My doctor died. 3 of his nurses died. 21 patients were hospitalized in critical condition. The Ku Klux Klan left an 8 foot tall white cross in the parking lot.
It wasn't in the news.
I was there. It was the first Ku Klux Klan bomb, I survived.
May 9, 2006, they beat up my dad, he is in a coma for 2 months, and an additional 6 months in the hospital recovering.
October 16, 2006, a bomb blew up my house, and the Ku Klux Klan left an 8 foot tall white cross in my rose garden.
It wasn't in the news.
It was 1AM. I was asleep in my bed. The bomb was put in the doorway of my bedroom. I was on fire. My hair and my clothes were burned off of me. It was the second Ku Klux Klan bomb, I survived.
We rebuilt again.
April 7, 2007, a backhoe drove over my house, again. We rebuilt again.
Also in 2007, the headless body of a teenage girl was found in the parking lot of Scarborough, Shaw's. Her head was found on the Payne Road, 3 months later, with a circle of 7 dead black labrador retriever dogs around her head.
May 9, 2010, they saw 1964 Dodge 330 car in half.
Also, 2010, a 90-year-old black man, was beaten to death with a shopping cart, in Westbrook Shaw's parking lot, while dozens of white onlookers cheered on his murderer.
May 2013, Southern Maine Community College was evacuated when a bomb was found under my desk, a desk I sat at every day. It was the 3rd bomb I survived.
June 4, 2013, my cousin Murphy's headless body was left in the crossroad of Ross Road and Cascade Road, Old Orchard Beach, Maine.
June 8, 2013, my cousin Murphy's head was left in the crossroad of Portland Ave and Road Road, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, a 1/4 mile away from where his body had been left.
I live on Portland Ave, 5 houses from that crossroad. I found his body while driving home from work at the Maine Mall.
August 8, 2013, a backhoe drove over my house, again.
November 14, 2013, while putting my art easel in the back of my car, after art studio class at Southern Maine Community College, a man and 2 women, with a metal golf club and 2 metal baseball bats, attacked. They were waiting behind my car. I didn't see them. They broke my legs, my hip, my knee. I was paralyzed for 5 months. It took me 18 months to relearn to walk.
#You think you know racism... I guarantee you don't know it half as well as I do.
August 2014... Saco Shaw's made national news when a woman's head was found in the ice cream freezer.
A week later another head was found in their dumpster.
April 10, 2015, 12 members of my family were kidnapped, by 14 Ku Klux Klan members, all of them police officers at the Scarborough, Maine Police Department, and Old Orchard Beach, Maine Police Department.
Do you remember Bela? She used to be in all my videos. A police officer beat her head in with a cinder block. Ripped her jaw clean off her face. April 10, 2015. That's why she's not in streams anymore.
Do you remember Georgie? Same thing. Same brick. Split the whole side of his head open.
While a pole with an electric taser neck hold held them down.
12 members of my family, had that happen. April 10, 2015.
How old were they?
The oldest was 14.
The youngest was 4.
Three were 7.
Two were 5.
Yeah. They were very young.
Still think you know what racism is?
But why would white people care about children? Children are disposable in America, remember? Americans murder 5,000 babies every day. Ninety Million babies have been murdered in America, since 1991. It's no wonder, white power terrorists think nothing is wrong with killing children. Murdering babies is, after all the American way.
Two escaped. They lived, but both have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and both are missing all their teeth and most of their jaws.
The other 10?
May 15, 2015, their heads were nailed to my door. Their intestines wrapped around my windows.
It wasn't in the news.
Maine law, only a police officer can report a crime to the news stations or newspapers.
But when the police officers, are marching around wearing white robes and white hoods and erected white crosses in the front yards of the people they torment... there are no police officers too who will file the reports.
THAT is REAL racism.
THAT is REAL police brutality.
But we're just Gypsies, so no one cares.
And this is Maine, the state that is proud to call itself: 99.9% white.
And this is The Town of Old Orchard Beach, a town run by the Ku Klux Klan. They took over our town in 2001. Now they run the Town Hall, the Police Department, the Fire Department, and Dispatch.
Heaven help you if you live in Old Orchard Beach, and you need to call 911, but you ain't white enough for them to respond.
Heaven help you if they do respond... and you're not white enough... because whatever help you called them for, they'll beat the shit out of you.
November 2015, Scarborough Walmart was evacuated, because a bomb was left in my department, under one of the HallMark card displays. I worked at WalMart at the time. It was the 4th bomb I survived.
July 24, 2016, Scarborough Walmart was evacuated, yet again, because a bomb was left in my department, under one of the HallMark card displays. I worked at WalMart at the time. It was the 5th bomb I survived.
July 26, 2016, while putting groceries in my car, at Scarborough Walmart, the same attackers from 2013, beat me with a shopping cart and left me for dead. They broke my spine. Severed the nerves in my spinal column. I've never walked again.
5 times in 2018... you saw my live streams interrupted, as the Ku Klux Klan arrived in my driveway, a shot bullet holes through the walls... you saw them on the live streams. The VODs are still up. I didn't take them down.
October 2019... local Jewish Synagogue was bombed. They blew the whole side off the building. You saw it in my live streams... I drove there and showed you what they did...
It wasn't in the news.
February 12, 2020, yet another of my cousins was gunned down. This time in Scarborough, Maine WalMart, while putting groceries in his car.
Biddeford, Maine's Rotary Park, used to have the Guinness World Record for the tallest, largest flag pole. They took it down 5 years ago. Do you know why?
Because in the dead of winter, Old Orchard Beach Officers, thought it would be funny, the strip a 14 year old boy naked, tie his ankles to the back bumper of a police car, and drive 14 miles from Old Orchard Beach, to that flag pole, and tie the child to the rope, like he was a lag, host him to the top, and left him there. 3 days of blizzard later, a dog walker found him, nearly frozen to death, unconscious, hanging upside down from the flagpole.
They assumed him to be gay, he wasn't, but they thought he was because he was wearing a pink coat.
It wasn't in the news. So if you didn't know the family, you didn't know it happened.
2 weeks ago, Black Lives Matter protestors arrived in Biddeford, Maine... they were meet face to face with white hoods carrying assault rifles, machine guns, and Gatlin guns... the protesters, didn't have the balls to stand up to REAL racists, so they fled to Sanford, Maine... but one of the Ku Klux Klan's primary "club" buildings is in Sandford, Maine, so the protestors were met with even more white hoods carrying assault rifles, machine guns, and Gatlin guns... the protesters, didn't have the balls to stand up to REAL racists, so the protestors fled to Monmouth, Maine, and after 5 hours there... they fled Maine entirely.
It wasn't in the news.
Why wasn't it in the news?
All us locals here in Maine, we saw it happen. We saw the protesters turn tail and run, as soon as the White Hoods marched out with their assault rifles.
The BLM protestors CLAIM they have lived with racism, but when they came to Maine, they found out fast, that they really had no clue, what REAL racists are like.
You don't know racism until you've lived with the fucking Ku Klux Klan terrorizing your town, terrorizing your family.
They kidnapped 12 members of my family. April 10, 2015. Tortured them. Killed 10 of them. And nailed their heads to my door.
#THAT IS FUCKING REAL RACISM!!!
You people don't know shit!
The BLM protestors are attacking statues and paintings because they are cowards who don't have the balls to fight REAL racists. They proved that when they arrived in Maine and got chased out within 5 hours, by the fucking Ku Klux Klan.
Yeah, you want to decry police brutality?
Do you remember a few years ago, a black boy while standing in line, at San Diego Comic-Con, waiting to buy tickets for the convention, was gunned down by a police officer...
Do you know who that black boy was? He was cousin Matt. The one I used to play multiplayer video games with... the reason I don't play multiplayer video games anymore.
His mother was so distraught over his death, that she remarried his father and 7 other men. Yeah, my aunt with the 8 husbands. That's WHY she has the 8 husbands. Her son gunned down by a police officer because he was the only coloured person standing in a line of white people, and the police officer thought that was suspicious.
Attacking statues and paintings doesn't help anybody.
You aren't bringing awareness, you are just making yourselves look like idiots.
Don't be haters.
There are enough haters in the world already. Don't add to the hate.
And those of us, who live with REAL racists in our towns, and are families are being brutalized, tortured, and murdered by those fucking racists... you are making life worse for US...
...because while you can go back home, and be safe, we still have the Ku Klux Klan lording over our town. And no amount of torn down statues or destroyed paintings is going to stop them.
And all you people have done is made things worse, for those of us, who live with the daily constant threat of violence at the hands of REAL White Supremacists.
You people running around calling politicians, actors, singers, white supremacists because of something they said on Twitter... you haven't got a fucking clue what a REAL White Supremacists is like.
And let me ask you this: how are YOU any different, from the racist white people who destroy all things non-white?
You're not. You are just the same.
You are acting just like them.
Violence is only going to breed more violence. Don't you people know that?
You who are destroying things... you don't care about the consequences of your actions, but you will not suffer any harm.
But what about my family?
Persian Gypsies. 1/2 Jewish, 1/4 Native American, and 1/4 Black. Not one drop of white blood in us ... living in Old Orchard Beach... the whitest town, of the whitest state in America... and town that got taken over by the Ku Klux Klan June 2001.
Do you care?
Do you care what they will do to us, in retaliation, for what you people are doing to statues on the other side of the world from us?
Do you care, at all?
You people say you care... but I don't see it.
I don't see it at all.
All I see is a herd of mindless sheep, jumping on a bandwagon, following the herd, and not once stopping to think about the consequences of their actions.
You people keep asking me "Why Avallac'h?", "Why are you so obsessed?", "Why did this fandom take over your life?"... look at the date it started.
* Did you know I'm on 24 hour suicide watch, and I have been since January 4, 2016?
* Did you know I was hospitalized for a nervous breakdown, after 10 members of my family had their heads nailed to the door?
* Did you know I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?
* Did you know Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is not itself an illness, but rather is a symptom and a coping mechanism for dealing with extreme emotional trauma?
* Did you know, a team of doctors, psychiatrists, psychologists, social workers, and FBI agents, had me hooked up to tons of medical monitors, heart monitors, blood monitors, a portable EKG... for weeks, so they monitor what activities I did, so they determine a lifestyle change prescription, that would get my resting heart rate under 131 and my blood pressure over 70 over 60?
* Did you know that the doctors discovered that the ONLY time my body relaxes on any level at all is when I'm playing Witcher 3?
* Did you know, I have an actual prescription, which says, to play Witcher 3 as much as possible every day?
* Did you know, playing Witcher 3 is the only thing keeping me alive right now, and my doctors says the worst I could do right now, is STOP playing it?
The Ku Klux Klan took everything from me. My home. My family. My health.
I have no one now. I have 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year, of the rest of my life, to be crippled, bedridden, and alone.
"Why Avallac'h?", "Why are you so obsessed?", "Why did this fandom take over your life?"... because I used to be able to walk. I used to have a family. I used to have a home. And I'm having a very difficult time trying to find a reason to live. And I needed something to take away the pain. I needed someone who had lost everything as brutalily as I had, to talk to, because only someone who had been through what I had been through, would understand how I feel. I needed something to see, other then 10 heads nailed to my door. It's all I can see. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I can't close my eyes. I can't get the image of their bloody heads out of my mind.
Playing this video game, researching every detail, writing articles, and sewing the costume, it's the only thing I can do that blots out the images of their heads. And as soon as I stop playing the game, stop rereading the novels, stop making screenshots, stop writing the articles, stop sewing the costume, the images of their heads are back.
I can't function at all any more. I haven't been able to function since April 10, 2015.
This obsession with Avallac'h... it's not about him. He's just the tool that right now keeping me from killing myself, until I can find something else, some reason to live.
And you people, you think because someone called you a hate slur, that you know racism is. You have no clue.
Until the Ku Klux Klan, kills your entire family and nails their heads to your door... you'll never know what it like to live with real racism.
You who don't know REAL racism, you think you are being funny with your acts of hate and violence, smashing statues? If you ACTUALLY knew REAL racism, you'd be so mentally broken that you wouldn't be able to see the statues, because all you can see is the horror of your murdered families's remains.
And because you don't know REAL racism, after you get done destroying things, you can safely go home, because while you THINK, someone is racist, because they called you a "nigga"... it's just a word. These people who murdered my family and destroyed my home, and left me crippled, they call me a "nigga" all the time. I don't even look black. I'm not even close to being able to pass for black. Heck, half the people who call me "nigga" 10 or 12 shades of brown darker than me. I'm 1/4 black, but you wouldn't know it to look at me. I'm physically whiter than most white people. But that doesn't matter to White Power people like the Ku Klux Klan. They don't care about skin colour. They care about blood.
If you think, you know what racism is because someone used hate slurs to describe you, then you don't know a thing about racism. Words can't hurt you. But bombs can. As can golf clubs. Guns can. Shopping carts can.
Look at yourselves... destroying property, vandalism... why? What good does it do? Do you think about those of us who live here and are left behind after you get done trashing things, and you back to the safety of your homes, where the worst thing you have to deal with is people calling you dirty words?
... we are left behind when you leave, and we are the one who will be hanging from flagpoles, our heads nailed to doors, our homes and churches bombed, by REAL racists, who don't just spout off hate slurs, because they are too busy loading their assault rifles and building bombs.
You don't know what REAL racism is.... if you did, you wouldn't be doing these thing, because you'd know how badly every non-white who lives in a town where there are active Ku Klux Klan members, is going to suffer, because of what you people are doing.
If you REALLY wanted to make a difference... you'd do something to make life safe for families like mine, instead of attacking statues and paintings that are never going to hurt anybody.
#STOP THE HATE!
They hate you.
You hate them.
When does it end?
Stop destroying things and start helping people.
Stop spreading hate and start spreading peace.
We who live with actual racism, we desperately need your help... but what you are doing right now... you are making things even worse for us.
Stop making things worse.
Start making things better.
Spread love and peace, not hate and violence.
Before & After
Damages Done To
The Dazzling Razzberry aka The Autism Awareness Car
What Happened To The Dazzling RazzBerry?
The answer is a vicious streamer on Twitch took to spreading maliciously slanderous sex rumors and lies about me, convincing people that I was what she termed: "A BDSM Dominatrix"
Me, a 5th Generation Mormon Turned Voodoo Priestess Rank of Marija Loa!
An asexual nun living a celibate life!
| A Look At What Happens When So-Called "Pranksters"
Take Their Twitch Chat & DisCord Sex-Jokes Too Far
& Send a Gang of 5 Rapists To My House
aka
The Deserve To Be Raped Raids & Why I Turned Off Twitch Chat...
How The Avallac'h Playthrough changed my life, caused the destruction of The Dazzling Razzberry Autism Awareness Car, made 28 families homeless, caused the death of a 10 year old
Including a detailed look inside what news media said was "The Worst Child Abuse Case In American History", more info about Etiole, and how growing up in a child sex slavery ring caused my to start The Avallac'h Playthrough - [NSFW] |
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Welcome to the New
Space Dock 13!
Helping Authors Write Weird, Bizarre, Absurd, Psychedelic Horror-Fantasy Since 1996!
(We've Moved & Changed URLs; Space Dock 13 is now EelKat.com)
(We are also novel-writing-tips.com, a-pink-unicorn.com, & of course are still SpaceDock13.com)
| Home | Site Index | Top 100 Pages | Search| About |
| The Adventures of The Pink Necromancer: Quaraun The Insane | FAQs |
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I Now Hold The World Record
For The Highest Level Ever Achieved in Witcher 3!!
If This Video Is Active, I'm Live Streaming Right Now...
WARNING:
Avallac'h & Ciri Shipping Happens Daily In My Cult of Avallac'h Stream
(This seems to piss people off so we seem to need to provide a warning about it)
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I have Kanner's Syndrome (ACTUAL Autism, not Aspergers), which means I'm not good at group things. I'm classified as Savant, meaning I have a few things that I obsess about, big time, and have world records in them as a result, and everything else in my life I still require a caretaker to help me with.
I was believed to be mute until I was 31 years old, when a college professor whose day job was working with Autism children, meet me at an Autism Awareness event (I own The Autism Awareness Car, which has 2.5million marbles glued to it - took 4 years to build it). He spent several years teaching me to talk and I was able to get a GED at age 37 (I had never been allowed to go to school as Autism in the 1970s = too retarded to be taught anything so why bother? It was assumed I couldn't be taught, so no one tried to, until I was 31 years old), and started college at age 42.
Today in addition to being a rabid gamer, I'm also an artist (acrylic on canvas and watercolor on rag) sell my art in local galleries, I build art cars and installation art, published over 130 Dark Fantasy novels, and became a retail merchandiser for Macy's, WalMart, and HallMark for 16 years because I'm very good at organizing things... I can't do much else, but I can certainly make sure nothing on the sales floor is out of place.
On Twitch I'm known for my ability to open up a video game and completely rewrite it removing and making my own... I rewrote Witcher 3, removed Geralt and Roach and the combat system, and build my own player character, made travel companions, wrote a new combat system, made new quests, made new maps... removed all the texture files and made all new ones. There's nothing in Witcher 3 that I have not rewritten. With over 4,000 mods now made for it, you can barely recognize my game as being Witcher 3 anymore.... and yet I can't read C++ code.
I spent my childhood and teen years, being told I would never amount to anything. I proved them all wrong.
People see the things I do very well (art, writing, my exemplary organization skills in retail stores, and my ability to open up a video game and completely rewrite it and making my own) but they often don't see past that.
Social skills are a thing I've not yet mastered, which makes streaming very difficult for me as, chat is sensory overload and I have it turned off. I also can't count, do Math, tell time, use calendars, use money, numbers are lost on me.
Basic things - bathing, eating, brushing my hair, etc - that most people have no trouble with, I have caretakers who have to help me do those thing, even though I'm 20, 30, 40 years older than my caretakers. I am VERY low-functioning, but I can write, I can paint, I disect video games, and I can organize things. I just can't do one thing else. Which is very upsetting, because I wish I could. I try too. I don't know why I can't. It's like there are a few things in my brain turned all the way up on super high and everything else is just turned off and won't come on.
And then there are issues with meltdowns, screaming fits, panic attacks, bad ones. Bad enough that I generally avoid contact with the public, simply because I'm tired of dealing with the police. Someone my age, screaming on the floor, people assume I'm on drugs and call the police. It's very frustrating, because I can not control these attacks and I can't stop them once they start.
It is extremely distressing, I'm insanely good at a few things, but everything else, things most of society doesn't bat an eye at, I can't do them, no matter how hard I try. And I'm not capable of "acting properly" or "behaving in socially acceptable ways".
Most people when they meet me in real life, they are very taken back, by how extremely disabled I am. Fans of my novels, meet me at book signings and ask: "So, what's the joke, what's this retard doing here, where's the author?" They refuse to believe, someone as deeply retarded as me, is capable of writing novels.
It hurts a lot, people's reactions to meeting me and them finding out the reality of what ACTUAL Autism, Kanner's Syndrome, is really like... and that it's NOTHING like Asperger's, with it's "cute Sheldon Cooper quirks" that they are used to and think of as being Autism.
They forget, people with Asperger's can live normal lives, they can pass for normal in public if they have too, they get married and have families, and I'm not capable of living on my own or without caretakers, and I never will be.
I wish more people knew the difference between Aspergers and Autism, and how vastly different they are from each other. Far too many people hear that I have Autism, and they automatically assume I have Aspergers, and then they meet me in person, and are shocked, horrified, and they tell me they've meet dozens, sometimes hundreds of Aspies, and when they meet me, they say, they realize, they've NEVER seen Autism before, in spite of all the hundreds of Aspies they've met, and then they tell me, they wish they had known, they wished someone had told them, how starkly different Autism is from Aspergers, because they always say, no matter how many Aspies they worked with, it never prepared them to come face to face with ACTUAL REAL Autism, Kanner's Syndrome, for the first time.
1 in 3 children have Aspergers, it's very common, but only 1 in 1,200,000 children have Autism, it's very rare. In the wake of the mass flood of people calling Asperger's Autism, people forget how incredibly rare actual Autism really is. They aren't the same thing and until you've seen both side by side, you don't realize how different they really are.
People forget WHY I became such a good writer. I was mute for 31 years. Writing was the only way I could communicate with anyone. But I grew up in a family that crumpled up the paper, never even looked at it. In their minds I was too stupid to talk and therefore anything I wrote on paper MUST have been gibberish. They didn't even look at it. So I wrote letters to the cats that lived with us. I started doing that when I was 8 years old. I still do it 50+ years later.
But I'm not likely to be much use in a group, as outside of writing, art, video games, and organizing sale floors of retail stores, I'm too retarded to be able to do anything else. I'm rarely welcomed in groups, because I'm too retarded, too Autistic to fit in, or so I'm always told. I'm rarely of any use to anyone.
Quaraun The Insane
The Summoner of Darkness
The Banshee Sisters: Bean-Nighe and Ben-Neeyah In the Swamp of Death
Home / The Quaraun Series: Yaoi Novel Excerpts | Free To Read Online / Quaraun The Insane : The Summoner of Darkness - A Day At Witch Pond & Fleeing To The Forest
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Quaraun The Insane
The Summoner of Darkness
The Banshee Sisters: Bean-Nighe and Ben-Neeyah In the Swamp of Death
(No clue what chapter it is, it's anyone's guess; I did not chapter this novel)
It has been brought to my attention, by several fans, that you have read all the currently published novels and are eagerly awaiting publication of the rest of the series. However, life being what it is, the town of Old Orchard Beach being what it is, and my health being what it is... publication of the novels got put on hold with an entire 2 years passing with no new novels published.
As I have many chapters of each volume finished, and each story can be read on their own in any order, without continuing one to the next, I have come to the conclusion that the best way to sait your appetite for more Quaraun, in between the publication of the finished novels, the best thing to do therefore is to simply publish the chapters that are finished here on my site, to give you something to read while waiting for each novel to be finished.
Please note that while not erotica, the Quaraun series is sold as "Adult Entertainment" and is not intended for readers under the age of 18.
The Quaraun Series Is Yaoi. The Series Is Psychedelic Unicorn Porn & Contains Masochistic Drug Addicted Transvestite Twinkie Uke Elves Having Sex with Sadistic Drug Dealing UnDead Seme Unicorns
While not Erotica, you must be 18 or older to buy the novels this excerpt comes from, due to drug use, language, sexual situations, abuse, and graphic depictions of suicide.
The more graphic scenes have been removed from these free to read online sample editions of the chapters.
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The Summoner of Darkness:
The Banshee Sisters: Bean-Nighe and Ben-Neeyah In the Swamp of Death
Quaraun woke up and stared up at the beams overhead. He didn't often wake up to see a ceiling. He tried to remember when he last time it was he had slept indoors. It had been several months at least. He sat up, stretched and looked around. He felt like he was being watched. He could not shake the feeling that they were not alone and that someone was here with them, watching their every move. Unicorn and GhoulSpawn were asleep on either side of him. Unicorn partly draped over him and GhoulSpawn snuggled up beside him, something Quaraun had not expected to find.
The first night GhoulSpawn had slept on the other side of the room, refusing to get close to any of them at all. The second night he had joined them in the soft fur nest bed, but stayed well out of reach of any one. Now on the third morning of their stay in the chapel, GhoulSpawn was laying right beside Quaraun, their bodies touching. Quaraun could feel the warmth of the half-Elf's flesh against him. He reached out and touched the sleeping Sun Elf, brushing his glowing yellow hair out of his face.
Like Quaraun, GhoulSpawn was an incredibly beautiful Elf. Unicorn had often joked that Quaraun was so vain, he was only truly in love with himself, and that being only because he possessed a beauty the defied all logic. Unicorn had also said he worried what Quaraun would do, should he ever find another Elf with his same haunting beauty, joking he'd either kill it to get rid of the competition or keep it for his lover, replacing Unicorn. The problem was it was not a joke and Unicorn was right, Quaraun did lust after his own beauty and it was his intense lust for GhoulSpawn's beauty that had inspired Quaraun to invite GhoulSpawn into his bed. Every reason he had given before was true, but he knew now, seeing GhoulSpawn up close for the first time and feeling the warmth of his body this close, that sexual desire had been the root cause of the request.
Quaraun sat watching GhoulSpawn sleep, watching his slow, relaxed breathing, and lusting for the young Sun Elf, in spite of the fact that Unicorn, his partner, lover, and soul mate was lying right beside him on the other side of the bed. He found himself wishing to feel the kiss of GhoulSpawn lips. The danger of wishes. Quaraun knew he had to get these thoughts out of his head. He was still not yet able to full control his psionic powers. Should he accidentally say "I wish..." the results could be terrible. He tried to remember what it was he had said just before GhoulSpawn had come crashing out of a hole in the sky, landing at his feet. Had he wished for GhoulSpawn? Had he been lusting for GhoulSpawn and wished the Sun Elf was in his bed?
Quaraun lay back down, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. He didn't know how much longer he could hide his lusts for the Sun Elf from Unicorn. Quaraun closed his eyes, trying to block out the thoughts of how much he wanted to have sex with GhoulSpawn just now. Think of something else. Think of the strange events this week had held. GhoulSpawn had fallen out of the sky and into their lives twice this week. No. Three times. The Gremlin. Wasn't he too GhoulSpawn? Older and from a distant future. A future where he and Unicorn was dead and the heartbroken GhoulSpawn was left alone. What had he said?
"I loved you very much. I still do. I never stopped loving you. I'm not trying to save the world. I just want to change the events of the past, so you don't have to die. You shouldn't have died. Not like that. I will lay a thousand years of legacy and tradition at your feet, if your heart will beat but once more."
The Gremlin had looked as though his heart was breaking when he'd said those words. He'd been visibly shaken up over seeing Quaraun alive again, after so many years. The Gremlin had looked so old. So sad. His containace was that of an Elf who'd survived a broken soul bond and had dipped into the madness of grief and despair.
Quaraun wondered, had he and GhoulSpawn been lovers? What about Unicorn? And what about the Gremlin. How long had he been alone?
Quaraun opened his eyes and looked at GhoulSpawn again. He looked so young. So peaceful. So different for the deeply distraught and very ancient Gremlin he would one day become. The Gremlin had indicated they were lovers. But what about Unicorn? Quaraun could not shake that question from his mind. What about Unicorn? Would a time come when Unicorn was gone? Dead. Forever. No longer able to come back. Quaraun didn't want to think about it. He loved Unicorn so much. Unicorn was dead. Is that not what the Gremlin had said? The Lich's many lives had run out. Another Phooka would kill him some day and he wouldn't come back to life that time. He'd stay dead forever. Quaraun felt a horrific pain in his heart at the thought of losing his beloved BoomFuzzy again. Quaraun squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out ant thoughts of a future without Unicorn. He didn't want to see it. He didn't want to think about it.
Quaraun's mind wandered back to wishing he and GhoulSpawn would kiss. Quaraun's wishes were dangerous. Every time he said the words "I wish" some thing bad happened. But he couldn't stop is mind, thinking of wishes. Wishes that went beyond kisses. Wishes that went to a warm embrace. Flesh on flesh. Skin against skin. Flesh inside of flesh. Their bodies coming together as one. Quaraun felt his dick go hard and erect as he imagined GhoulSpawn on top of him. Inside of him. Something Unicorn would never allow. The Lich was so possessive of Quaraun. Quaraun knew if Unicorn ever got a hint of Quaraun's desires for GhoulSpawn, the Phooka would kill them both. He would not allow for any wavering of Quaraun's affection.
The thought of Unicorn's anger excited him even more. Quaraun loved the dominant stance Unicorn took with him. Quaraun half began wanted to be fucked by GhoulSpawn, just to incite Unicorn's jealous range, so he could feel the full force of the Phooka rage targeted fully against him. Quaraun's thoughts shifted back and forth between GhoulSpawn's gentleness and Unicorn's fierceness, both thoughts exciting him, and he found himself wishing they would both ravish him together. And just now the need to relieve himself was more then he could bare. He needed to escape this position he was in, squished between the two men he was lusting for.
Quaraun looked around. It was still early morning. The sun was not quite up. The stained glass windows sent erry shadows across the room. ZooLock was asleep at his feet. Morning had arrived and the storm had left. Chickadee and Titmouse were singing in the pine trees. There was a fresh, musty wet smell to the air. The smell of fresh rain in a mossy forest.
Quaraun got up and went to the door to look outside. Though the rain had stopped, everything was drenched through. Tree branches hung low, water dripping from them. Dark puddles stood in places all around. The rich black earth was mushy and boggy, waterlogged from the heavy torrents of rain that had kept the Elf and his companions trapped in this church, now for three days.
"Take GhoulSpawn with you and go back the way you came," a female voice said. "Leave ZooLock behind. Take the half-Elf away from here."
Quaraun was suddenly alert, his foot long ears perked up high over his head instead of drooped backward as they normally were. With his ears twitching and listening like a scared rabbit, he looked all around for the source of the voice. His sight was not nearly as keen as his hearing though and he could see no one.
"Don't let him go back to that village. They're gonna kill him. He's too innocent. He doesn't know who they are. He doesn't know what they have planned. What they're gonna do. Take him with you. Don't let him go back to that place. Now that you have him go back the way you came. Don't keep following this path."
"Who's there?" Quaraun asked.
The sound of Quaraun's voice woke Unicorn.
"Who ya talkin' too?"
“I heard something.”
“I can see that,” Unicorn said. “Ya sexy little ears is gone errect.”
“Someone was talking to me.”
Quaraun was looking all around, scanning the trees for signs of life. His body was tense and alert, ready to run at the slightest sound.
Unicorn kicked ZooLock.
"What?"
The Thullid jumped up ready to attack, then relaxed when he remembered where he was. The commotion woke up GhoulSpawn, who sleepily sat up and tried to remember where he was and how he had gotten here.
"What for did you kick me?" ZooLock demanded.
"Our Elf busy being terrified bunny having nervous breakdown again."
"What? Oh."
ZooLock looked over and saw the panicked look on Quaraun's face and the stiffness of his tall alert ears.
GhoulSpawn had never seen Quaraun like this before so wasn't sure what was going on. He sat on the bed of furs and watched as Quaraun began trembling in sheer terror. Unicorn and ZooLock both went to the door beside Quaraun and looked around with him, but neither of them saw anything, partly due to the fact that Unicorn was nearly blind while ZooLock was a nocturnal, underground dwelling beast who was blinded by sunlight and could see nothing in the day time.
Quaraun continued looking around then gasped and fell back away from the door. There it was. Right in front of him. The black cat was watching them again. This time it was right there. Inches in front of him. It's green-yellow eyes gleaming at him.
“Look at that,” Quaraun pointed to the cat, but when he did the cat lept up and ran into the bushes.
“Look at what?”
Unicorn looked to see where Quaraun was pointing. There was nothing there.
“A black cat, with a jeweled collar.”
"Ya seeing cats again."
"Kats?" GhoulSpawn asked. "You see Kats?"
Unicorn went back to the fur bed and plopped himself down beside the half-Elf.
"Him been seen cats all over the place for the past week or so."
"Where?"
"Every where. Every where we go. We turn 'round and there him go gibbering about cats talking to him and following him..."
"Are they following him too?" GhoulSpawn's eyes widened in terror.
"Aye."
"They're everywhere!" GhoulSpawn gasped.
"Eh?"
"I can't get away from them," GhoulSpawn said, now sounding as scared as Quaraun.
The half-Elf began trembling in fear and started crewing on his nails, and twisting his yellow hair nervously around his fingers, while his gold flecked eyes darted fearfully around the room.
"Ya what?"
"They've been following me for weeks."
Unicorn leaned back, looking at GhoulSpawn, then turned to ZooLock.
"What it with Elves being scared of cats? This one doing it too."
ZooLock toddled over to get a closer look at GhoulSpawn.
"What do the cats look like?"
"There's a black one. Wearing lots of green jewelry. And a white one. With purple wings. And another black one. And a grey one. With tuffted ears. And an orange one. With long fur. And a flat face. And they talk. They won't stop talking to me. They show up every where I go. I thought I was going mad. No one else sees them. No one will believe me. The other half-Elves laugh at me. They say I'm crazy. They've started calling me GhoulSpawn the Crazed. I don't know what's real and what isn't any more."
"Those are the same ones I've seen," Quaraun said, coming back into the room and sitting on the floor beside GhoulSpawn. "We should leave while the rain has stopped
Quaraun ordered Unicorn to pack their things and the Phooka quickly obeyed.
"Travel with us," Quaraun said to GhoulSpawn.
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"HellBorne needs me..."
"HellBorne? You mentioned him before. Who is he?"
"He's an old man. Ancient. Can't get around good any more. He's got a withered arm. Been that way since birth. It's like there's no arm there are all. Just skin over bone and the bones are like too short. It looks like he has one arm. He needs help doing things and now that he's old, just getting around."
"Have you known him long?"
"No. My father knew him before I was born. I only met him a about two months ago. He's a half Elf and he takes in half Elves. There's a lot of half Elves there. It's kind of a half-Elf community."
"So you have a place to go?"
"Yeah."
"And you're not alone?"
"No."
"Are you happy there?"
"I.... Uhm ... Not really. They're the ones killing the sheep."
"You're hiding the sheep from HellBoorne?"
"Yeah."
"Are you in trouble?"
"Kind of. And I will be even more now."
"More now?" Why what do you mean?"
"I've been gone three days."
"Do you not have freedom to come and go as you choose?"
GhoulSpawn looked away and didn't answer.
"Tell me about HellBorne. Who is he? What does he want with you?"
"He calls himself the Summoner of Darkness. Darkness is coming and we have to be ready."
"Meaning?"
"He's gathering up Thullids. A lot of them. Some type of cult. A lot of priests. Like him." GhoulSpawn pointed to ZooLock. "They're all gathering in the next village from here. If you keep going done that road you was on, you'll come to it. They're getting ready for something. Don't know what. They've been gathering up sheep to sacrifice to some ancient Elder God."
"Elder God? A Thullid Elder God?"
Quaraun looked over at ZooLock.
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"Why haven't you run away? I've not been holding your chains since the field of poppies back there."
"No reason to run away my lady," ZooLock answered.
"Stop calling me that."
"Why's he call you that?" GhoulSpawn asked.
"He thinks I'm a god. Or goddess. The Thullids call me The Elder Brain. I'm supposedly... I don't know. They think I'm an ancient Jelly Fish living inside this Elf body of mine."
"Are you? You did say you were a Thullid."
Quaraun stopped talking to think. He tried thinking about what the black cat had said. He tried thinking about everything ZooLock had said before they reached the Witch Pond. He tried to think about everything GhoulSpawn had said these 3 days trapped in the storm with them.
"Gremlin," Quaraun said. "Unicorn what did he say to us?"
"A five o clock curfew. King Stephen and his thin Gypsies. Tiny houses on the beach. Apple orchards. You being the father of two evil kings. Ongadada. Twighlight Manor. Don't go near Black Tower. Stay away from HellBorne. Trouble brewing ahead. Sun Elves are dead. White rocks are bad. Trapped souls. My grandson is gonna murder me. He had a headache. Humans take over the planet. You're gonna die. He loves you. He's here with the cats to stop HellBorne. Don't follow that road. Don't trust ZooLock. If you see GhoulSpawn, don't let him go back to Black Tower."
"If you're lonly you can stay with us. We all like you," Quaraun said to GhoulSpawn.
"Why the concern?" GhoulSpawn asked.
"I get the feeling you're unhappy there and that you're happier here with us."
"I'm the only High Elf among the half-Elves. The others are all common Elves and Wild Elves and Wood Elves and the like. I'm the only one not half-Human too. They pick on me. I'm... I always had servants. I... I'm not... I'm not good at d..do..doing things. At all. Basic every day things they do every day... I... I've... I've never done them before. They're all half Elves, but their Elf parents were Common Elves, not aristocrats. Not royalty. Wood Elves mostly. They know how to do things. Farming and building and crafting and working with their hands. I try to help and end up getting in the way. I'm more bullied there by them, then I was by the Sun Elves. I just want to belong some where."
"You can belong with us."
"Aren't you both wanted for murder?"
"Yes. We are."
"You live on the run."
"That's true."
"You don't have a place to live. Don't you just, live like this. Camping out in whatever abandoned building you find."
"Yes. And taverns. And inns. Brothels. Sometimes we stay with friends. There's a Leprechaun travels with us sometimes. He has a Vardo. We live in that when we're with him. I have a tent. We set that up and sleep under the stars. It's not a bad life, living on the road like we do. You can stay with us. Travel with us. We don't mind your company."
"You're a full blooded High Elf."
"I was raised by Demons in a Human village. My lover is a Faerie. I'm not like other High Elves. I don't mind other races, including half-Elves. And I don't like seeing you unhappy. And I like talking to you. It doesn't happen often that another High Elf to talk to. Please consider travelling with us."
"I need to go back home. I've been gone too long already. HellBorne will be furious."
"Then you will not come us?"
"I need to go back."
"Do you mind then, if we travel with you?"
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GhoulSpawn couldn't think of a logical reason not to travel with them, seeing how they were walking on the road leading back to his village and he would have to walk this direction any ways. And so they finished packing their things and set out for GhoulSpawn's village, rather then turning back as the black cat had advised. They walked for about an hour with nothing of any significance happening to them, following the path around Witch Pond, until they came to the other side. It was once again becoming windy as dark clouds hung low in the sky.
"Looks like it gonna rain again," Unicorn said.
"I hate being wet," Quaraun said as he looked up at the storm clouds.
"We are on the other side of Witch Pond," ZooLock said. "Look there is the witch's house we saw from the other side. Perhaps we can stop there until it passes?"
"I don't want to stay at a witch's house," Quaraun mumbled. "Did that before. Mariasma. And look where that got us."
"Where did it get us?" ZooLock asked.
"She killed me dead," Unicorn said. "Him had to resurrect me all over again. Now I a VampiLich."
Thunder crashed near by. Quaraun's foot long ears laid all the way back, down flat against his back.
"I hate being wet," he said again.
A sound at his feet, caused his ears to go back up. The water, in the shape of a hand, rose out of the pond and grabbed hold of his ankle, pulling in forward n the slipper moss.
"How is it you had to resurect him again if he is a Lich?" ZooLock asked.
Quaraun wasn't listening to ZooLock, he was in a trance, staring down at the water.
"Are you alright?" GhoulSpawn asked.
"The water intices me."
"Intices you?"
"Something is trying to pull me into the water."
GhoulSpawn looked at the water.
"There's nothing there."
"There's something there. Something invisible. In the water. Crawling over the edge. Grabbing at my feet. Trying to pull me in. Trying to drown me."
"There ain't nae no 'ting t'ere, Quaraun," Unicorn said.
ZooLock inched cautiously closer to the water, leaned over the edge and brought one of his large fish eyes to the edge of the water.
A purple blue bolt of lightening flashed across the sky.
"Nope," ZooLock said at length. "I sees nothing."
"You can not see an invisible entity," Quaraun said. "I don't like this place."
Another crack of thunder smashed through the air as the winds picked up.
"The water is gettin' choppy," Unicorn said. "Ya should nae be so close to the edge."
"Water that entices you in until you drown," Quaraun whispered.
"Come, ya drown from falling in and being crashed under the waves iffy ya does not come back from the edge."
Unicorn forcibly dragged Quaraun away from the pond.
The thunder claps were growing louder, the lightening flashes bigger, and the wind was howling fiercely now. Angry black clouds, blotted out whatever sun light there had been. In the near distance the sound of ocean waves crashing on the shore could be heard. The strong smell of seaweed and crabs filled the air.
Quaraun thought for a few seconds. "We are in an enchanted forest."
"Is it is Faerie Forest," Unicorn asked.
"You're a Faerie, can't you tell?"
"Usually, but I does nae sense no Fae in these woods."
Quaraun nodded.
"It doesn't feel like Faeries. I'm Faeries sighted, I can usually tell if there are Fae around. Can you tell if there are any Fae around," Quaraun asked GhoulSpawn.
"Hmm... that's a good question. There's no way to be sure, to be honest."
"Implying everything else you said was a lie?" Quaraun pointed out.
"What?" The remark caught GhoulSpawn off guard.
"No one who is telling the truth, ends a sentance with 'to be honest'. It means every thing else you said was a lie."
"I don't lie," GhoulSpawn hung his head in shame. "That's kind of my problem I can't lie."
"I've noticed. You keep trying to lie and you act like someone's cast a spell on you that prevents you from lying and you just blurt out the truth while trying to lie."
"Yeah, something like that," GhoulSpawn said quietly.
"What happened?"
"To what?"
"Why can't you lie?"
"I... uhm... well... it... I ..."
"GhoulSpawn... why are you trying to lie about why you can't lie?"
"I don't know."
"You're trying to hide something from me, aren't you?"
GhoulSpawn didn't answer.
Quaraun thought some more then looked at GhoulSpawn.
"You said something about Chaos Magic before. And you keep talking about Chaos Demons. You're a Chaos Wizard, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Do you work with Chaos Demons?"
"Uhm... I... uh... sort of."
"Chaos Demons would explain a lot."
"What a Chaos Demon?" Unicorn asked.
Quaraun shook his head and took another drink.
"They create Chaos every where they go. They can't help it. They're not from this dimension, their bodies react to the gravity or some thing. I don't know. I've never tried to do Chaos Magic. It's dangerous. Energy goes mad around them. Things start happening at random and half the time they don't know they're causing it. It's common for Socerors and Demonologists to summon Chaos Demons than hold them captive
Quaraun paused and looked back at GhoulSpawn again.
"Are you a Sorcerer?"
"Kind of?"
"Kind of... question mark? You don't know?"
"My father was a sorcerer. I... I... I learned magic from him, but I... he... uh... he..."
"Killed Unicorns. You're father was evil, wasn't he?"
"Yeah. He's dead now. A group of wizards killed him. I think. I don't know. I'm trying to find him."
"The Guild?"
"I don't know. I wasn't very old. They burned all his books and scrolls and... they... we... they killed all his children too. I'm the only one who survived. My mother protected me. They spared me, because she was an Elf and they said I was young enough to not know what he was doing so I wouldn't be able to do the stuff he did."
"I'm sorry. The Guild has been killing a lot of wizards and their families. Usually without any real evidance to support their reasons."
"My father was evil. Nations rejoiced on his death."
"I'm sorry. Did he work with Chaos Demons?"
"Yeah."
"You don't know much about wizardry, do you?"
"Not really."
"Why Chaos Magic? Of all the things you could do, all the types of magic out there, why focus on Chaos Magic?"
"I'm good at it. Sort of. Not so much good at it. I'm trying to gain some control over it. Have less Chaos and more normalcy in my life."
Quaraun raised a questioning eyebrow, but didn't comment of this for a while. Instead he went back to deep thought.
"Is Chaos a problem for you?" He asked GhoulSpawn.
"Yeah."
"You know it is every time you show up that life for us goes to Hell, right?"
"I kind of noticed that. I'm sorry. I try to avoid people. It's why I can't stay married. Weird things start happening and she'll get scared and I just... I leave and don't go back. Let her have a life without my bad luck following her around. I hate being alone, but people get hurt whenever I'm near them. I'm not doing Chaos Magic to... I'm not doing what other Chaos Wizards do,.. I'm trying to stop it... find a cure so I can live with people and not have to be alone any more."
"You're welcomed to stay with us."
"I cause Chaos in your life."
Quaraun shrugged.
"I've got a Phooka here. I guarantee you can't cause as much Chaos in my life as he does. You're welcome to stay. Though I have no home and wander."
"Why is that?"
"Why do I wander? Never become famous. I can't stay any where long. Disciples, worshipers, and cultists follow me every where. And I'm wanted by the Guild, so wizard hunters are after my head. I wish I had a place to stay. A house to live in again would be nice..."
"That's bad, " ZooLock interrupted. "Why did you do that!"
"What? What did I do?"
"You're a wish granting wizard and you just said 'I wish'. Every time you say 'I wish' something bad happens."
"Oh dear. I do need to guard my words better. And I don't wish for this house."
"Did that erase your wish?" ZooLock said.
"I don't know, did it?"
"Hmm... that's a good question. There's no way to be sure, to be honest."
"Implying everything else you said was a lie?" Quaraun pointed out.
Quaraun turned to GhoulSpawn.
"You keep trying to lie to me."
"What?" The remark caught GhoulSpawn off guard.
"No one who is telling the truth, ends a sentence with 'to be honest'. It means every thing else you said was a lie."
"I don't lie," GhoulSpawn hung his head in shame. "That's kind of my problem I can't lie."
"I've noticed. You keep trying to lie and you act like someone's cast a spell on you that prevents you from lying and you just blurt out the truth while trying to lie."
"Yeah, something like that," GhoulSpawn said quietly.
"What happened?"
"To what?"
"Why can't you lie?"
"I... uhm... well... it... I ..."
"GhoulSpawn... why are you trying to lie about why you can't lie?"
"I don't know."
"You're trying to hide something from me, aren't you?"
GhoulSpawn didn't answer.
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Just there there was a sound at the door. The sound of someone coming home. Coming home to find that there were four very strange men, siting in their front parllor, uninvited. After a few moments of clattering at the door, the jingling of keys and scraping of shoes, the voices of to elderly women could be heard.
"It's already open."
"What's popping?"
"Not popping. Open."
"What?" Screamed the old woman.
"Open."
"Who's doping?"
"No not...Never mind. You forgot the lock the door again."
"Who let a whore in?"
"No. The door."
"What whore?"
"No, the lock."
"Mr. Spock? Who's Mr. Spock? I don't know any one named Spock."
"Look, someone unlocked it without a key."
"On birds knees?" The deaf woman yelled.
"No. I said, without a key."
A few moments of silence passed, followed by more scuffling noises at the door.
"Magic," whispered one old lady to the other.
"What'd ya say?" the other yelled loudly. "Talk louder. I'm deaf ya know."
"Perhaps I could help," Quaraun said as he opened the door.
Both women screamed from fright.
"Who are you? What are you doing in our house?" Demanded the younger of the two. By younger, she was about 80 years old.
"Is that Mr. Spock?" said the deaf woman who was closer to 90.
"I'm sorry for the intrusion. It was raining and there was no place else to seek shelter from the storm. Plus the water was inciting me to drown myself and I thought it would be nice to meet the witch who cast the spell on the pond."
The two women chattered between themselves.
The younger turned back to Quaraun.
"Are you a wizard?"
"Yes. We all are. All four of us."
"The water compelled you?"
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"Yes."
"All four of you or just you?"
"Just me," Quaraun said.
"How very strange. Did you hear sister? The water compelled him."
"How did he get in our house?"
"How did you get in our house?"
"We just..." Quaraun started to answer. "Uhm.... I think I wished us here. I'm not sure how we got inside. I don't remember coming in, actually."
"How did you even see our house?"
"I'm sorry?" Quaraun did not understand what they meant.
"No one ever sees our house."
"No one..." Quaraun was confused.
"No mortal ever sees our house."
"No man can see our house."
"No Human has ever seen our house."
"You are no mortal man."
"You are not Human."
"None of them is Human."
"Is it a goblin?"
"No it's an Elf."
"Are they all Elves?"
"No. Just this pink one."
"What are the others."
"A Faerie and a Demon and another Demon."
"What type of Fae are you," one woman asked Unicorn.
"I is a Phooka," Unicorn answered.
"A Phooka."
"Then not a true Fae. A Water Demon."
"How interesting."
"An Elf with three Demons."
"And you say the pond compelled you?"
"Yes," Quaraun answered, looking at GhoulSpawn and not the old women. "There are two Elves here, one Faerie and one Demon."
"No. There is only one Elf and three Demons. I am Bean-Nighe and this is my sister Ben-Neeyah."
"Banshees," Unicorn whispered to Quaraun.
"We wash the blood stained garments of those about to die."
"We died the childbirth."
The two old women grabbed Quaraun and dragged him out of the house to Witch Pond. The others followed.
"We stay here are the mouth of the stream."
"Where the water empties into the pond."
"And wash clean countless dead."
"Look out over the water."
"What do you see?"
Quaraun looked and saw the same pond they had seen before. Clear blue to it's center, somewhat swampy to it's edges. Lily pads on the road side, reeds and cattails in the low parts. A beaver dam blocking the flow of the stream. There was nothing unusual or remarkable about Witch Pond. It was like the thousands of other ponds that dotted the coast of Canada.
"I see a pond, no different from any other pond," Quaraun said.
"You are Faerie sighted, Necromancer. Close your eyes and look again."
"I never told you I was a Necromancer."
"But you are, aren't you?"
"Yes. I am."
"The water would not have compelled you otherwise. There is a darkness in your soul. A darkness that comes only from Necromancy."
"I am not evil."
"No one can take the life of the innocent and use their souls to raise the dead, without blotting out a piece of their own soul. You have the blood of innocents on your hands. You have murdered children. Their souls scream for redemption. Close your eyes and look again. See the water as we see it. Know the truth."
Quaraun closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he gasped and took several quick steps back. The pond was gone, replaced by black brackish waters of a stagnant bog. A dense fog hung low over the surface. Dead trees, the bark long ago fallen away, their wood bleached white as bones, sunk into the mire. It was a creepy, gloomy, dreary scene, but the thing which made Quaraun gasped was the ghostly spirits pacing to and fro across the surface of the water. Their arms and legs in chains. As they reached the water's edge, each ghost reached out trying to grab hold of Quaraun and pull him into the bog.
"What are they?"
"The souls of the dead. Trapped between the realm of the living and the Swamp of Death. Look at how they reach for you. Listen to their words. Their screams. Their cries."
"Why are we back at the Swamp of Death? We escaped it."
"Have you walked through the Swamp of Death, Necromancer? Did you take your own life?"
Quaraun clamped his hand over his wrist. The memory of The Mournful Lamb Inn burned in his brain. He had tried to kill himself. He had sliced his wrists and almost died. Unicorn had saved him. Nursed him back to health. But he'd spent weeks lost in the Swamp of Death, wandering among the lost souls of suicide victims.
"One of you will die soon."
"What?"
"In a few days, one of the four of you will be dead."
"Who?" Quaraun asked.
"Many will die."
"Hundreds will die."
"Thousands will die."
"But one of you four, will be dead before the year is over."
On those final words the two Banshees, their house, and the soul filled bog all vanished and Witch Pond was back as they had found it.
"Quaraun?" Unicorn said, while shaking the Elf, trying to bring him out of his trance. "Quaraun!"
The Elf looked down at Unicorn.
"What just happened?" Unicorn asked.
"What?"
"Ya went all spaced out there for a minute."
"Where did the women go?"
"What women?"
"Bean-Nighe and Ben-Neeyah."
"The Banshee sisters?"
"Yes."
"Is feeling alright, Quaraun?"
"What?"
"Ya was spaced out for quite a bit there."
"Where did the Banshees go?"
"What Banshees?"
"Bean-Nighe and Ben-Neeyah."
Unicorn gave Quaraun a puzzled and worried look of concern.
"Has ya been seeing t'ings again?"
"You didn't see them?"
Unicorn shook his head.
Quaraun turned to ZooLock.
"Did you see them?"
"No, my lord. But I doubt nothing your ladyship sees."
"Did you?" Quaraun asked GhoulSpawn.
GhoulSpawn said nothing.
Quaraun looked around.
"Where are we?"
"At the church," Unicorn answered. "Big ass turtle chased us here, remembers?"
"We never left?"
"No. Did ya t'inks we had?"
"I don't know what I think any more."
Quaraun sat down and tried to make sense of what had just happened. He didn't think it was a dream, as he had not been asleep. Nor did he think it was the drugs, which admittingly did make him hallucinate, but usually he could tell afterwards what was real and what was the opium, plus he hadn't taken anything since yesterday and that had worn off hours ago.
"I don't know what's real and what isn't any more."
"Was a dream. They be very real some times."
"I wasn't asleep. Was I?"
"Not dat I saw."
"What happened to me?"
"Just now?"
"Yeah."
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"Ya kind of spaced out. Like no one was in ya head."
"Outer body experience?"
"What dat?"
"Like when I was lost in the Swamp of Death. Not dead, but... not in my body either."
"What ya see while ya was there?"
"We left the church and followed the path around the pond, until we came to a house. I stopped to look at the pond and something tried to pull me in, but there was nothing there. And it started raining so we went inside the house. No one was home, but we waited for them. Two old women, Bean-Nighe and Ben-Neeyah arrived. You said they were Banshees and they agreed with you. They addressed me as an Elf and the rest of you as Demons. they said they died and were cursed to spend eternity washing the blood stained clothes of people about to die. And then every thing disappeared - the forest, the pond, the house... and a vast swamp, a peat bog, that spanned for miles, was all I could see. The Swamp of Death. And that's when I could see what was pulling me in the water..."
Quaraun stopped talking. A look of horror spread across his face.
"What was it?" Unicorn asked, seeing that the Elf would not finished what he was saying.
"Children. Murdered children. Hundreds of them. Thousands of them. Wrapped in chains. Being sucked down into the mud. Drowning. They weren't trying to pull me in. They were trying to get me to pull them out. It was like the Swamp of Death... only worse... much worse. What have I done?"
"Did ya do somet'ing?"
"I cast a horrible spell. A long time ago. I forgot. Why did I forget?"
"Ya has a habit of blocking out the memories ya does no wants to see. Would nae be the first time ya forgot doing a horrible t'ing."
"So many souls."
"What did ya do?"
"I changed your spell. The Lich spell. I altered it. It's why you're different from other Liches. It takes a hundred years for a Lich to regenerate after they've been killed. They come back, but not quickly. But not you. You die. And you resurrect again in hours. Some times sooner."