Update: April 16, 2022

Tomorrow is Easter.

Easter, like Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Mother's day is one of the worst days of the year. A day that celebrates children and motherhood. On November 14, 2013, while I was 8 month pregnant, and putting bags on the back seat of my car, three still unidentified attackers, brought golf clubs down on my back, breaking my spine and murdering my baby. I am legally blind and almost deaf, so I neither heard nor saw them coming. I read lips, so you must be facing me for me to hear you. Bring legally blind, you also must be less than 3 feet in front of me for me to see your lips, to know you are talking. Because of this it was very easy for them to sneak up behind me while I leaned into my car, putting bags on the seat.

They broke 3 vertebrae in my spine, the shattered bones severing my spinal column, permanently damaging many nerves. Because of this nerve damage I have limited use of my left arm and hand, difficulty breathing, my bladder and intestines no longer function properly requiring adult diapers, massive tremors in both hands prevent me from being able to do basic things like brush my hair or hold a spoon to eat. These are just things from the nerve damage. 

Additionally they broke my pelvis, my hips, and my knees.

I was paralyzed for 5 months. It took me 18 months to relearn to walk. Today I can walk on a very limited basis, aided by a cane, but every step is seeking pain, like lightning bolts going through my leg, across my pelvis and up my spine.

Because of this I was bedridden from 2013 to 2015. And all of that time I had no use of my hands, so I was not online either. And thus was unaware that during that time, a group of locals set to social media to build up massive slanderous rumors about me. They created a huge fairy tale meme of me being an Erotica author, a porn star, a transvestite, a male to female transgender, gay, and an alien abductee. I am none of those things but they spent 3 years, on hundreds of accounts on Facebook and Twitter, many of them fake "Eelkat" accounts where they were pretending to be me, building up this massive slanderous web of lies about me, and I had no idea they were doing it, until October 2021, 9 years after they started doing it.

April 10, 2015 a group of 74 locals, many of them wearing ku klux klan white hooded robes, arrived at my farm. 14 of them held me, Ben, my mother, and one of my 3 younger brothers down on the ice and snow while holding guns to our heads, while the others used cinder block bricks and a metal pole device with wire loops on the end, to beat and behead, 10 of my 12 foster children, then nail their heads to my door. The youngest was 4 years old. The oldest was 16 years old. They chanted "too gay for the family friendly town of old Orchard Beach" while accusing me, my pink Volvo, my pink motor home, and Ben of being gay, transgender, transvestite, and citing that guys were not allowed in Maine.

THIS is what gay haters in Maine do to people they THINK, might maybe, be gay, even though they are not.

No man, woman or child is safe in Maine, so long as these murders walk free. They will kill anything they determine to be gay, even if it is not, as can be seen my the murder of my children.

They also had hundreds of paperback copies of my books, burning them in a huge bonfire on my lawn while calling them gay Erotica and calling mean Erotica author and porn star. (I'm an author, I write a travel blog style series about a homeless man who backpacks his way across Maine, there is no sex in the series. I'm a Mormon, I've never written a sex scene.)

My family was murdered and I am crippled for the rest of my life, because of this group who has been slandering me on social media. But, at the time of these two attacks (November 14, 2013 and April 10,2015) me and my family were unaware of these slanderous rumors the locals of Old Orchard Beach and Biddeford, Maine were spreading not only on Facebook and Twitter, but by word of mouth around town as well.

May 2021, I started walking around town again, for the first time since being paralyzed 9 years ago on November 14, 2013, and it quickly became apparent something was seriously wrong with the locals.

I was unable to walk my dog on Main Street, Bradbury Street, Harvey Street, or Cutts Street Biddeford, where I have lived since becoming paralyzed, but not before gone outside, because of being paralyzed and bedridden and unable to walk until now…

I was unable to walk my dog on Main Street, Bradbury Street, Harvey Street, or Cutts Street Biddeford without being attacked, pushed off the sidewalk by random strangers running up to me and grabbing my cane and using it to push me in the road in front of cars while accusing me of being gay, transgender, or transvestite. Screaming "transvestite freak" while throwing rocks at me. Group of women joggers stopping to surround me and harass me while saying guys aren't allowed on their street. 

October 2021, my Volvo returned to my driveway after 3 years of being completely rebuilt, after the February 2019 attack on it with baseball bats completely destroyed it. Within 5 minutes of starting to repaint it, 2 men showed up in my driveway yelling about aliens and demons and Etoile and because of this I stopped painting fish on the door, painted over the fish and painted a portrait of Etiole instead. 

November 19, 2021 the red haired American woman from the 2016 High Street attack on my navy blue pick up truck, showed up on the porch here on Main Street. 

The location is 409 Main Street, the big white farmhouse Victorian on the 3way corner of Harvey Lane and Cutts street, right at the train tracks. It has 2 driveways one on Main Street and one on Harvey. There are multiple porches. It's the porch on the Main street side, that goes up the driveway alongside the abortive cedar tree hedge, where I park my painted Volvo. That porch is the one this woman shows up on. 

It's an elderly couple and mother in law who live there at that porch.  When they leave for work, this woman shows up when they are not home and stands on the porch bellowing like a fog horn screaming death threats at me, yelling crazy demon and alien slander about Etiole, making the claim of putting a bomb in the tail pipe of my car, screaming about suicide demons and evil eye curses, and yelling about someone named Todd Murphy (I don't know who that is, I get the impression he's a relative or boyfriend or ex of hers or something, but I don't any one by that name, so I don't know who he is. I don't know who she is either.) She looks to be maybe 30s to 40s aged. 

She was here again yesterday. She was bragging that she got a fight started with my mother and the Atwaters on Facebook, laughing about how easy it is to get my mother and her ex fighting and the old woman was giving her hell and telling her to get off the Atwaters Facebook and leave them alone. 

This happened less then an hour after my mother made the claim that a woman of the same short haired blond description, assaulted her and my father at an ATM machine, the blond woman claiming to my mother to be my father's girlfriend, my father claiming he never saw her before. 

All this happened on April 10, 2022, the 7 year anniversary of the murder of my foster children, and the blond woman who was here in my driveway after the ATM attack was bragging the anniversary is why she is instigating the fighting between my parents. 

I did not see the ATM attack, so, I do not know what happened other then what my mother and father are saying. 

I did however see her here in my driveway.

She does not live here. She's shows up in a silver pick-up truck driven by a small skinny blonde man. No one here at this building knows who she is.

There is another blonde woman, older sometimes with her. I do recognize the older woman. She's one of the November 14, 2013 golf club attackers. The one the others who were with her called "Claire". She looks to be in her 60s. Usually wears a blue denim button down man's worksheet as a coat. She sometimes drives a gold Volvo suv around 2004vintage, sometimes a silver Subaru suv, sometimes a mega sized white Nissan 4 door white pick-up truck, and sometimes a pine dark green pick up truck. She frequently has another older woman with her, who calls herself "Kendra" and has very, very long natural red curly hair, sometimes she wears big Janis Joplin glasses and sometimes cyberpunk cyclops lime green glasses, she frequently carries a small white poodle dog. The dog is often wearing either a purple dragon or a black skeleton costume. These 2 older women and a younger bald man are the 2013 golf club attackers who murdered my baby. This new younger blond woman and the 5 who are often with her, appear to be their relatives. The FBI believes they are part of a drug gang from Connecticut that call themselves "The Cyr Clan". According to the FBI the Cyr Clan was a gang that my uncle Bruce was involved with back in the 1960s in Boston before I was born. The FBI believes Bruce pissed them off in the early 2000s and that's what brought them up here to Maine.

The FBI believes they were after either one of Bruce's daughters or one of Bruce's sisters with both the November 2013 and April 2015 attacks.

One of Bruce's daughters also lives on Portland Ave in Old Orchard Beach and she also has a pink motor home. So there are TWO pink motor homes on the same street. This particular daughter of Bruce IS in fact a porn star. She's a pole dancer for a top less bar.

In 2016, there was another large scale attack, near duplicate to the April 10, 2015 attack. I never talk about it because it didn't happen to me. It happened to Bruce's daughter across the street from me. The attack on her family was bigger, bolder, and bloodier, than the attack on my family the previous year.

In 2017, a third similar attack happened in Biddeford to one of Bruce's sisters. Again I don't talk about it because it didn't happen to me.

Like I've said before there is A LOT MORE going on, then what you hear me talking about. I don't talk about what has happened to several of my cousins and their families both the Atwater cousins and the Murphey cousins- because it is not my place to do so. That's why you ONLY hear me talking about what directly happened to me personally and never mentioning the rest.

And I've not said everything that happened to me. A lot more has happened to me then you hear about because the FBI has specifically requested I don't talk about specific aspects of what happened to me and my children, because a lot was never released to the public, because they want to see who knows what. Certain things no one in the public should know about and knowing those things marks you as involved. This new young blonde woman KNOWS several of those things that were not released to the public and yells those things. Which means she is VERY INVOLVED with the murder of my children. 

Like I said until summer and fall of 2021 when started walking again for the first time in 9 years, I was unaware of the local gossip that was falsely accusing me of being gay, falsely accusing me of being transgender, falsely accusing me of being transvestite, falsely accusing me of being a porn star, falsely accusing me of being an Erotica author, or falsely accusing me of being an alien abduttee. 

I have lived here since 1975. You people know me. You people knew my murdered children. You people know I'm a cis female. You people know I'm not gay. I have published 138 novels and more then 2,000 short stories since 1978, and I  have sold 27k copies of every one of them to you people who come to my house and buy them in person, so you've read my books and know they are not Erotica. You people know I've been a devoted orthodox LDS Mormon my whole life, and that I've been with Ben for 37 years, so you know I'm not a porn star. 

What is wrong with you people? My family was murdered and I have spent 9 years recovering from medical hell, and I go outside for the first time in 9 years and find you people who know me have all devolved into gay hating, sex spewing, gibberish slandering gossips spreading vile, evil, malicious rumors and lies that you yourselves know to be untrue?

No wonder not a single one of you have helped my family through any of this. No wonder not a one of you ever once visited me at the hospital or my home after I got out of the hospital and couldn't go outside because I couldn't walk. 

You don't see me for 9 years because I'm bedridden and you're all to cold hearted to stop by and check in on me, and you spend that 9 years spinning wild, crazy transphobic, gay hating, sex filled lies about me?

What is wrong with you people?

You all let some stranger, who very likely IS the murderer, convince you of crazy ass slandering lies, that you people know to be untrue. 

You all ought to be ashamed of yourselves. 

Every resident of Old Orchard Beach and Biddeford, Maine,  you all ought to be ashamed of what you have spent the last 9 years doing.

This new younger blonde woman, she's the one who keeps saying my car has a suicide demon in it and yelling about Todd, saying my car caused him to die.

I don't know who she is, but she's the same one who used to show up at 27 High st, also Biddeford and scream "nasty bitch" at me and acuse me of being an Erotica author and porn star. (Which she did during several Witcher 3 livestreams on Twitch, you can see her doing it if you go back and watch my VOD). I am neither an Erotica author or a Porn star, and she had throughout 2016 to 2019 arrived at High st with 5 others, one a blond man with a silver pick-up truck, one a black man with a yellow Mitsubishi with new York plates, one a very obese woman with blond Shirley Temple sausage curls, and the other two hooded men with a navy blue Buick sedan. If you remember the Christmas Eve 2016 livestream when the gang attacked my high st apartment and screaming "transvestite freak" that's them. This that same woman who also slanders me by calling me transvestite and transgender, which I am neither. I am a cis female, I've had 7 miscarriages, and the 1 baby that made it full term was murdered November 14, 2013 by 3 people with golf clubs, who are suspected to be, these same people. 

One day when I went downstairs to get the mail on high st, a mailbox that was in the lobby and you had to go through 2 sets of doors and foyers to get to, she had her hand in the mailbox and when I came out the door she yelled "I wasn't stealing your mail" threw our mail on the ground and ran off.

She knows the Martals, (Aunt Barbara ex, uncle Paul Martal,  the one in prison for building the Boston Marathon bomb in 2013, Mike's father, those Martals) she was staying with them for a few months in 2016. Is somehow connected to Barbara (the one who wrote all those emails in 1997 pretending to be me, when I did not yet have email or internet or a computer at the time, and I had not yet heard of email and didn't even know what email was, back when Barbara wrote all those alien abduction emails about Etiole and pretending I wrote them.)

She has short straight blond hair and sometimes dyes it dark red or purple. I know she follows both me and my mom and most of the Atwaters and my 3 younger brothers (though not my 2 older brothers as the oldest is in prison and the 2nd oldest is dead) on Facebook because she keeps saying that "I read on Facebook…" when she's in my driveway.

She shows up at Walmart to yell at me sometimes, and sometimes shows up while I'm walking Mickey. She talks about Etiole and White Monkey a lot when yelling, which is strange because that's stuff Brucie and Daddy used to write in their letters to Bishop Morgan back in Cape Elizabeth in 1990s. 

I'm not the one who calls him Etiole that's always been Bruce and Barbara who did that. I know his real name and use his real name.. They don't know his real name. And my father is only one who uses the term White Monkey. The white monkey was Helen Pearlys pet back in 1970s, it had nothing to do with Etoile, I don't know why he keeps saying it does.. My father is the only one who ever makes that connection. I've never called Etiole a demon or alien, again that has always been my father, Barbara and Brucie who said the alien and demon stuff. I don't believe in aliens or demons, but they do. (Etiole if you don't know is a local elderly homeless man who has backpacked around New England since 1953, and since 1978 I let him camp on my farm in Old Orchard Beach when he's in the area. He's covered with scars from WW2 and they call him an alien and demon because of his scars. They refuse to believe he is a human, which just goes to show how absolutely stupid they are.)

In November an elderly man came over and started asking me why I was emailing him about Etiole and I'm not, I don't use email. He said he was getting over 300 emails a day about Etiole all claiming to be from me. He said there are hundreds of email addresses getting copies of this email. You remember when Barbara and Brucie used to send emails back in 1997 claiming they were from me but we didn't have computer or internet back then? I think it might be Barbara sending those emails again like she did back then. I can't think of who else could be doing it.

This sometimes blond, sometimes red hair, sometimes purple hair woman, also mentions these emails when she is in my driveway yelling at my Volvo at 409 Main street. 

FBI agent Andy Drewer has found and shut down, so far 27 Facebook accounts, all pretending to be me. He said all of them were owed by Brucie. These fake "Eelkat" accounts appear to be the source of a lot of what this blond woman says and is suspected that she may be one of the people behind writing them.

Keep in mind, Brucie is dead. He may have started those Facebook accounts, but he ain't the one writing them. He died 3years ago.

Mervin Bruce Atwater died from Covid19 on November 24, 2019.

The fact remains you ARE impeding an FBI investigation into the murder of my family, and only someone involved would have any reason to do that. ONLY someone connected to the murderer would have a motive to try to stop the FBIs investigation. That makes you an accessory to murder. You make yourself look VERY GUILTY of being involved every time you spread slanders about me, my car, or Etiole. 

Do consider that the source of your slander in all likelihood is the murderer, please tell FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322 at the Portland FBI office on Middle street, the name of the person who is telling you to slander me.

And now tomorrow is Easter. 

A day when mothers take their children on Easter egg hunts.

My children are dead.

My children were murdered. 

And you people have spent the last 9 years making fun of that.

Think about THAT tomorrow when you are out on Easter egg hunts with your babies.

Think about how YOU would feel if it was YOU. How would YOU feel if it had been your baby who was murdered and this entire town was spreading bullying slanderous lies about YOU.

If you know who this blond woman is, please tell FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322 at the Portland FBI office on Middle street. She is wanted for questioning about her connection to the November 14, 2013 murder of my baby and attempted murder of me, and the April 10, 2015 murder of my foster children and the September 26, 2016 hit and run attack on my car and the February 2019 vandalism to 27 High st apartment building, and the November 2021 attack on my Volvo and the March 10, 2022 attack on my Volvo and the April 10, 2022 ATM attack on my parents. 



Update April 11, 2022: Do you know who this woman is?

This woman that my mother is talking about, have any of you ever seen her? Does anyone know who she is?

It isn't that woman who keeps coming on the porch and yelling at my car is it? Do any of you know who the woman attacking my car is?

The location is 409 Main Street, the big white farmhouse Victorian on the 3way corner of Harvey Lane and Cutts street, right at the train tracks. It has 2 driveways one on Main Street and one on Harvey. There are multiple porches. It's the porch on the Main street side, that goes up the driveway alongside the abortive cedar tree hedge, where I park my painted Volvo. That porch is the one this woman shows up on. 

It's an elderly couple and mother in law who live there at that porch.  When they leave for work, this woman shows up when they are not home and stands on the porch bellowing like a fog horn screaming death threats at me, yelling crazy demon and alien slander about Etiole, making the claim of putting a bomb in the tail pipe of my car, screaming about suicide demons and evil eye curses, and yelling about someone named Todd Murphy (I don't know who that is, I get the impression he's a relative or boyfriend or ex of hers or something, but I don't any one by that name, so I don't know who he is. I don't know who she is either.) She looks to be maybe 30s to 40s aged. 

She was here again yesterday. She was bragging that she got a fight started with my mother and the Atwaters on Facebook, laughing about how easy it is to get my mother and her ex fighting and the old woman was giving her hell and telling her to get off the Atwaters Facebook and leave them alone. 

This happened less then an hour after my mother made the claim that a woman of the same short haired blond description, assaulted her and my father at an ATM machine, the blond woman claiming to my mother to be my father's girlfriend, my father claiming he never saw her before. 

All this happened on April 10, 2022, the 7 year anniversary of the murder of my foster children, and the blond woman who was here in my driveway after the ATM attack was bragging the anniversary is why she is instigating the fighting between my parents. 

I did not see the ATM attack, so, I do not know what happened other then what my mother and father are saying. 

I did however see her here in my driveway.

She's the one who keeps saying my car has a suicide demon in it and yelling about Todd, saying my car caused him to die.

I don't know who she is, but she's the same one who used to show up at 27 High st, also Biddeford and scream "nasty bitch" at me and accuses me of being an Erotica author and porn star. (Which she did during several Witcher 3 livestreams on Twitch, you can see her doing it if you go back and watch my VOD). I am neither an Erotica author or a Porn star, and she had throughout 2016 to 2019 arrived at High st with 5 others, one a blond man with a silver pick-up truck, one a black man with a yellow Mitsubishi with new York plates, one a very obese woman with blond Shirley Temple sausage curls, and the other two hooded men with a navy blue Buick sedan. If you remember the Christmas Eve 2016 livestream when the gang attacked my high st apartment and screaming "transvestite freak" that's them. This that same woman who also slanders me by calling me transvestite and transgender, which I am neither. I am a cis female, I've had 7 miscarriages, and the 1 baby that made it full term was murdered November 14, 2013 by 3 people with golf clubs, who are suspected to be, these same people. 

One day when I went downstairs to get the mail on high st, a mailbox that was in the lobby and you had to go through 2 sets of doors and foyers to get to, she had her hand in the mailbox and when I came out the door she yelled "I wasn't stealing your mail" threw our mail on the ground and ran off.

She knows the Martals, (Barbara ex, uncle Paul Martal,  the one in prison for building the Boston Marathon bomb in 2013, Mike's father, those Martals) she was staying with them for a few months in 2016. Is somehow connected to Barbara (the one who wrote all those emails in 1997 pretending to be me, when I did not yet have email or internet or a computer at the time, and I had not yet heard of email and didn't even know what email was, back when Barbara wrote all those alien abduction emails about Etiole and pretending I wrote them.)

She has short straight blond hair and sometimes dyes it dark red or purple. I know she follows both me and my mom and most of the Atwaters and my 3 younger brothers (though not my 2 older brothers as the oldest is in prison and the 2nd oldest is dead) on Facebook because she keeps saying that "I read on Facebook…" when she's in my driveway.

She shows up at Walmart to yell at me sometimes, and sometimes shows up while I'm walking Mickey. She talks about Etiole and White Monkey a lot when yelling, which is strange because that's stuff Brucie and Daddy used to write in their letters to Bishop Morgan back in Cape Elizabeth in 1990s. 

I'm not the one who calls him Etiole that's always been Bruce and Barbara who did that. I know his real name and use his real name.. They don't know his real name. And my father is only one who uses the term White Monkey. The white monkey was Helen Pearlys pet back in 1970s, it had nothing to do with Etoile, I don't know why he keeps saying it does.. My father is the only one who ever makes that connection. I've never called Etiole a demon or alien, again that has always been my father, Barbara and Brucie who said the alien and demon stuff. I don't believe in aliens or demons, but they do.

(Etiole if you don't know is a local elderly homeless man who has backpacked around New England since 1953, and since 1978 I let him camp on my farm in Old Orchard Beach when he's in the area. He's covered with scars from WW2 and they call him an alien and demon because of his scars. They refuse to believe he is a human, which just goes to show how absolutely stupid they are.)

In November an elderly man came over and started asking me why I was emailing him about Etiole and I'm not, I don't use email. He said he was getting over 300 emails a day about Etiole all claiming to be from me. He said there are hundreds of email addresses getting copies of this email. You remember when Barbara and Brucie used to send emails back in 1997 claiming they were from me but we didn't have computer or internet back then? I think it might be Barbara sending those emails again like she did back then. I can't think of who else could be doing it.

This sometimes blond, sometimes red hair, sometimes purple hair woman, also mentions these emails when she is in my driveway yelling at my Volvo at 409 Main street. 

FBI agent Andy Drewer has found and shut down, so far 27 Facebook accounts, all pretending to be me. He said all of them were owed by Brucie. These fake "Eelkat" accounts appear to be the source of a lot of what this blond woman says and is suspected that she may be one of the people behind writing them.

Due to the incident yesterday it is now also believed that she is the mystery blond woman who pretends to be my father's girlfriend and harassed my mother for no reason other then to get a laugh on watching my mother fight with my father (something they do quite violently in public places, in stores, just everywhere.)

If you know who this blond woman is, please tell FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322 at the Portland FBI office on Middle street. She is wanted for questioning about her connection to the November 14, 2013 murder of my baby and attempted murder of me, and the April 10, 2015 murder of my foster children and the September 26, 2016 hit and run attack on my car and the February 2019 vandalism to 27 High st apartment building, and the November 2021 attack on my Volvo and the March 10, 2022 attack on my Volvo and the April 10, 2022 ATM attack on my parents. 



Update: April 10, 2022, big violent attack, as police and FBI expected.

Today is the 7th anniversary of the murder of my family. Remember I said to watch who does what today?... My father just beat the hell out of my mother, tried to kill her. She is right now refusing to call the police. My mother claims she caught my father with a girlfriend he's had for several years now. But near as I can tell, all he did was stop to tell some random stranger how to use the ATM machine. Note, they got divorced in 1994, my mother left my father for another man, left the other man for another man after that, and left the next man for Wayne. She's been with 2 other men (possibly more) since Wayne. She has not been a part of my father's life for 30 years, but feels the need to control his life and harass him on extreme violent levels. If he does have a girlfriend, so what? She left him 30 years ago.

Wayne died during the cat court case, the 2nd one, when he sued my mother for stealing his cats and putting them in my motorhome. Wayne's father, 8 of his cats, and then Wayne himself each died a few weeks apart all from rat poison. Wayne's daughter sued my mother claiming my mother put rat poison in their food.

The fbi believes my mother did kill Wayne and his cats and believes that's why she put his cats in my motorhome. Fbi believes my mother was one who called police April 10, 2015, expecting them to arrest me, take the motorhome, and return the cats to her. She did not expect police to take cats. All the harassment and vandalism of my mom's cars is believed by fbi to be Wayne's daughter friends and relatives and family.

My family, my children were murdered in 2 attacks, one on November 14, 2013 and one on April 10, 2015, both attacks are believed by the FBI to have been attacks that were intended on my mother and the people hired mixed me and her up.

April 10, is my mother's father's birthday by the way, David Henry Atwater, it's WHY she does everything she does, all her wild crazy vandalisms to people on April 10 every year since the 1950s.


April 6, 2022 update, as the attacks on my family and property continue and now more people are in the hospital

Daddy has sepsis and they keeping him in hospital for a few days.

Sepsis is very bad.

That's what I had.

You can die a few hours after it sets in if not treated.

When I was in the hospital in 2014.

That's why I was in the hospital.

I had surgery for it in march 2015.

That was the surgery on my arm.

Sepsis was in a major artery in left arm to heart. 

Side effect from when I was in hospital November 2013 when I was in wheelchair and February 2014 when I was on crutches relearning how to walk. Doctors was focused on my hip and not my spine. They didn't find the source of infection until until the mri in June 2016. 

Sepsis is why I can't walk without cane and why my lungs are messed up and why I have tremors and can't use my hands good anymore. Sepsis infection was so back it damaged my nerves. I was scheduled for spinal column surgery September 2016, they sent me to a neurosurgeon who was supposed to be top brain surgeon in New England and he did more mri and then canceled surgery because damage to my vertebrae (from golf club attack November 2013, which is what caused all of this, including the Sepsis and is the attack that brought the fbi here they think Mark wife did it but college had no security cameras at the bug light parking lot, they investigating Mark family, Barbara family,  and Brucie family. Charges of murdering my baby and attempted murder of me) is so bad. Shattered vertebrae bone fragments are severed into my spinal column nerve bundle at the sacroiliac joint where the hip and pelvis connect to spine. Neurosurgeon said he can't operate because of how nerve damage is, said if he removed bone fragments I would be paralyzed from neck down. But that is also when the source of Sepsis infection was found to be in my spine and not my hip, and that is when it finally went away because they were able to target the correct place to fix the infection.

Mark’s wife is the #1 suspect the FBI is watching, because, according to the FBI, this mysterious Mark guy, whom I have never met, never heard of prior to this, have never talked to, and have never seen, so I have no clue who he or his wife are… according to the FBI, he is friends with my mother, but only via her FaceBook account, where she hired him to put in a septic system, then gave him MY address in Old Orchard, while making the claim that SHE owned both MY land and MY motorhome, and when he asked for a picture of her so he would know who she was, she gave him a picture of ME, not herself.

According to FBI agent Andy Drewer THIS is the reason why the backhoe was driven over my house August 8, 2013 and why the golf club attackers attacked me on November 14, 2013.

According to the FBI, my mother was trying to get my land so she could sell it to use the money for a down payment on a house in Kennebunk and she used this Mark guy as her pawn to do it, by fighting with him on social media using “fake EelKat” accounts to convince him that he was dealing with me, even though I had never heard of him before.

According to the FBI, my mother started sending his family death threats, in the same way she is currently sending Todd Murphey’s family death threats, and that this is why Mark’s wife attacked with the golf clubs, murdering my baby and crippling my spine. According to the FBI, Mark’s wife thought she was attacking my mother and was unaware that both my mother, her sister Barbara, and her brother Bruce’s wife Doris were all impersonating me, using 27 different “fake EelKat” FaceBook accounts to scam Mark’s family about a septic system.

This was confirmed by the Old Orchard Beach police in October 2016, when Mark attacked my mother in person and was arrested by OOB police, that day. He made the claim, that she, my mother, was me, but the officers in question, Robin and Will, both know me and my mother and informed Mark that this was not me that he was fighting with, it was my mother, to which he said this was the woman he had been dealing with since June 2001 who had called herself EelKat in every correspondence. The police showed Mark pictures of me and he said he had never seen me before and had no clue who I was.

This event October 2016, is when both the police and FBI started expanding their investigation, now looking for people who were friends of my mother, her sister Barbara, and her brother Bruce, and that is when they found the identity of long time stalker and bomb builder Kendra Silvermander who turned out to be a FaceBook friend of all 3 of them.

After Mark’s gang found out October 2016 that I was NOT the person they had been fighting with online, but rather it had been my mother impersonating me, the attacks on my family stopped but the attacks on my mother’s family started February 2017 when a road grader drove 75 feet up her driveway and flattened her car. Since then this event was repeated with 3 more cars.

In August 2021, My mother and her sister began impersonating me on FaceBook and with emails, yet again, and as they had done in the past, used my friend Etiole to do it. Once again, calling him a demon and an alien and a cryptid, and once again pretending to be me, they wrote a lot of emails and started mass spam sending them to every Maine email address they could find, at a rate of sending them to several thousand people a day.

I found out about this in November 2021, after Etiole was shot, gunned down by 6 people at Rotary Park in Biddeford, Maine on November 21, 2021, by people who claimed to be from Scarborough, Maine and claimed to be the mother and in laws of some guy named Todd Murphey.

I still have no clue who Todd Murphey is, but apparently he used to work with my mother and commit suicide recently and my mother and her sister took advantage of his suicide to yet again pretend to be me, and this time, calling Etiole a suicide demon, started harassing this Todd guy’s ex wife, son, and mother on FaceBook and via emails while pretending to be me. Which caused these people to show up at my 409 Main Street/Harvey/Cutts street Biddeford apartment to vandalize my car and cut all the wires off the apartment building, not once, but twice: on Thanksgiving day 2021 and again on March 10, 2022, because these friends and family of this Todd guy are 100% convinced the nut they are dealing with on FaceBook is me, when in fact, the one they are dealing with is no me, but rather my mother yet again pretending to be me.

This is also what led to the December 2021 and January 2022 FBI raids in the Cutts Street are of Biddeford, just a few weeks ago, which led to the arrests of 8 people.

Back to sepsis…

On December 24, 2021, my mother arrived here at 409 Main street and stole my father’s 14 medications that he takes for his triple by pass, his kidney dialysis, his diabetes… and then, she took him in her car, drove to his doctor, and told his doctor, he’s not allowed to have medicine, because he has to do what she says.

He has not taken his medicine since December 24, 2021, it is today April 6, 2022, and he is struggling to stay alive.

All of this is because she is hell bent on a house in Kennebunk and doesn’t give a shit that she has caused my baby to be murdered November 14, 2013, my foster children to be murdered April 10, 2015, me to be going through a decade long medical nightmare after being crippled November 14, 2013, 5 of my cars to be destroyed including The real Cristine The World’s Most Haunted Car that Stephen King based his Cristine off of, my house -the one that was in the Thinner movie- to be driven over by a back hoe, and now my father dying in the hospital.

Death and destruction at every turn, and she doesn’t give a shit because, as she puts it: “What are we going to do about Wendy? She can’t keep that land, I need a house in Kennebunk!”

Her obsession with getting a house is utter ludicrous insanity, that needs to be stopped before anyone else dies at the hands of her fucking retarded FaceBook friends who blinding attack, vandalize, and beat up anyone and everyone on her command.

I am so fed up with her blind devotion to a fairy tale house she thinks she has to have, at the expense of the lives of everyone around her.



March 30, 2022, update on yet another attack on my family and land

Police take notice. 


Scam artists have been bringing real estate agents onto my property in attempt to illegally sell my land. They have no right or permission to be here. My land is NOT for sale. If you see them doing it, please arrest them.

These are the Scottish Travellers. They arrive here every summer, harassing my family for four decades now. They are the same ones who drove a backhoe over my house August 8, 2013. The same ones who crippled me and murdered my baby November 14, 2013 with golf clubs, leaveing me paralized with a broken spine ever since. I am cripled with a shattered spinal column since the golf club attack and am bedridden weeks to a time unable to sit up or get out of bed. I have rebuilt my house 5 times in the past 9 years, and their attempts to steal my land and sell it have been barbaric and violent, and icluded a bomb that blew up my house October 18, 2006, and most of my family is now dead, murdered at their hands. These are the same people who cut my 1964 Dodge 330 in half May 10, 2010. They arrived back here September 19, 2020 and illegally cut down most of the trees across my lawn, and arrived again November 19, 2021 and for the last 20 years they arrive every summer with a green dump truck and dump garbage on my lawn. In 2014 they left a pile of garbage 175 feet long, 30 feet wide and 12 feet tall and it cost me $12,000 to have it removed. I am crippled and elderly and there is no one to help me against their harassment.

There should NEVER be anyone other than me EelKat Wendy C Allen (with the painted Volvo) or my partner Benjamin Wildes (with the blue Honda) in my yard at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, where the ink motorhome is parked. If you see ANYONE ELSE or any other car in my yard, please call the police immediately. There is no one else who has permission to be on my land.

My land is NOT for sale, if you see real estate agents, please inform them they are being scammed and the people trying to sell my land are NOT the legal land owners.

The FBI are on the look out for them as are the local police. If you see them in my yard, please notify both the Old Orchard Beach Police Department at 207-934-4911 and FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322 at the Portland FBI office on Middle street.





March 10, 2022 update on the most recent vandalism of my car

This is a copy of the letter that has been forwarded to the police departments involved. For this online edition some parts have been removed (so if you get to a place that seems like the topic changed abruptly, that is why) and the names are removed from the online version, but the version the police have, includes all the full names and contact info of all the people in question. And for those who have asked: yes, the police and FBI have talked to Etiole, they are fully aware of him, his health, his homelessness, etc.

Dear Sirs,

I feel I need to tell you what has been happening as it has gotten very much out of control the past few weeks. It's been slowly escalating for a few years and, if you look at my police record for both Old Orchard Beach and Biddeford, you will see dozens of reports for vandalism of my 1992 Volvo 240 (the painted one) at now 3 apartments in Biddeford, and vandalism of my land in Old Orchard Beach. In the past 6 months, a hyper escalation started with has become very out of control the past couple of weeks.

Last night, my car was vandalized again.  

As these events are taking place in both Old Orchard Beach and Biddeford, I'm giving this same letter to both departments, so events from both towns are listed.

I am Wendy Christine Allen of 146 Portland Ave Old Orchard Beach, Maine and 409 Main Street apartment 101 Biddeford, Maine.

There appears to be someone fairly local impersonating me online, and is raising hell with a lot of local people, inciting them to do very violent physical attacks on me, my Biddeford apartment, my Old Orchard land, and my car.

It's reached the point where I can not go to the store without having my car towed home, because it gets vandalized so bad while I'm n the store shopping. EVERY TIME I go to the store. I've been at a loss to understand why this is happening. I don't know who these people are or why they are attacking. On Thanksgiving day they cut all the wires off the Biddeford apartment building so we had no internet or heat or anything for a while. There is a "redhaired" woman who shows up on the front porch to cream at my car, every time the family who lives in that apartment goes to work. She stopped a few weeks ago, because the man who lives there fell on the ice, broke his shoulder and has not gone to work since. It appears she knows that family who lives there and does not want them knowing she does this while they are not home.

A few weeks ago an old man walked up to me, asked if I was EelKat and then asked me why I kept emailing him, and I said I don't email anyone cause I don't use email. He said some days he gets over 300 emails a day from someone claiming to be EelKat.

 

We are Gypsies, and though I've lived in America my whole life, I know very little of American habits and laws or what specifically to do in this situation. We are the Gypsies who were in Stephen King's Thinner movie and my 146 Portland Ave land was one of the filming locations of the movie and, the cars in the opening scenes were our cars, one of which I still have. I mention this, because, there are two Gypsy clans, The Atwaters (Scottish Travellers) and the Cyrs (Irish Travellers) fighting over my land and the fight centres largely around the fact that it was the filming location of Stephen King's the Thinner movie.

I own the land. From the 1940s it was owned by my grandmother Helen Ricker Allen. She left it to me in her will in 1983. Unknown to me, at some point after 1983, the Atwaters had the land illegally transferred into their names -they steal land this way as a full time career and many of them have illegally deed swapped land in all 50 states in America.

In 2014, I found out they are done an illegal deed swap, when an auction group showed up on my land to sell it. Upon discovery I had been living on the land since 1975 and paying taxes on it since 1983, but my name was not on the deed, the auctioneer (and member of the OOB town hall) cancelled the auction and ordered a town hall meeting to review the situation. Upon investigation it was discovered that when the land went from my grandmother to me, my father signed as "joint witness" and then a year later, went back to the town hall to have my name removed from the deed and his put on it, even though he had no legal write to do so. After that, the record shows that every 3 to 5 years, he and my mother swapped names on the deed, sometimes his name, sometimes her name. The land changed ownership names more then 30 times between 1983 and 2013. 

Because I have severe agoraphobia, I had not set foot off of my land since the 1970s. When it came time to pay the taxes, I gave my father the money and he delivered it to the town hall, or so I thought. In 2014, I learned that in spite of my paying my taxes like clockwork, since 2006, the town hall had no record of receiving any money. It is unclear where the money went. On one hand it looks like my father spent the money and never paid the taxes. On the other hand it looks like he sometimes did pay the taxes but instead of going to the tax office he gave the money to Kathy BR in the permits office and she gave the money to a guy called JB who went to prison for embezzling $3million in OOB tax money from the town hall. JB did not work for the town hall, he was a software designers who built the online banking security for the town hall to direct deposit money to the bank, and according to the FBI the money was going to his bank account not the town hall bank account, but he was only found with $30k not $3million. I don't know the full details, I only know this part, because when we tried to find out why my land was being auctioned this is the info we were given.

In any case, at some point my dad stole my land via just walking into the town hall and asking the desk clerk to remove my name from the deed and put his name on it instead. The whole thing was done illegally and without my knowledge or permission.

There were 3 lands originally. 144, 146, and 146a. My father stole all 3 of them. 144 was auctioned off to the Collard family in 2007, even though I was still living there until 2015 without any knowledge of the auction happening. No one informed me. I've since spoken with the Collards and they were unaware of the situation. They actually bought the land legally even though it was stolen land they had bought, they were unaware the land had been stolen. Everything has been straightened out between me and the Collards, they are not part of the current problem.

My mother owns 146a, but she owns it illegally. She claims it's rightfully hers because my father gave it to her, but, he stole it from me via illegally rewriting the deed, so he had no right to give it to her.

In 2014 and 2015, all the court and legal work was done to restore 146 back to me.

The current situation is my parents are in an active attempt to remove my name off the deed again, like they had done back in 1983.

On a daily basis my mother shows up and first words out of her mouth every day is: "What are we going to do about Wendy? She can't keep that land. I need a house in Kennebunk." to my father.  She started doing this in August, originally bragging that she was going to take my land out of retaliation for my refusal to cast death curses on Chris at work. I don't know who "Chris at work" is. It was one of the names on her list of people she wants me to kill via death spell curses. I was live streaming on Twitch the day she came in yelling about "Chris at work" and my need to kill him for her, so a lot of people online heard her saying these things. I'm a YouTube gamer, I have a livestream going almost daily for 12+ hours a day, so when she comes in, #1 it's breaking and entering because I didn't let her in, and #2 she is interrupting my live streams quite regular so I have hundreds of video footage clips of her saying these things and making these threats. The day she and my father cut the cable/internet wires off my apartment building - I have that on livestream footage as well. My father cut the wires off the house while my mother was ordering him to do it. In November 2021 and again 2 days ago March 9, 2022.

They both make the claim I don't need internet, because I am as they put it "being a bad daughter" because I "won't sell your land and give me the money for a down payment, I need a down payment, you are supposed to give me the down payment money for a house, I'm your mother!"'

As for what happened to my car March 9, 2022 - my father, my father vandalized my car and tried to make it look like my brother  did it. My father stuffed the tailpipe full of McDonald's ketchup packets that he stole from the Biddeford McDonald's where my brother works, which is what caused the fuel line to blow up. I could have died. My car is now being repaired again, for the exact same thing I had to have it repaired for in November 2021. My father tried to kill me and make it look like my brother who works at McDonald's did it so my brother would be blamed. Twice. Once in November 2021 and again 2 days ago.

My father did the same thing in November, because of some guy named Todd who I supposedly convinced to kill himself via may painting a "suicide demon" on my car. There is a picture of Etiole on my car, that is what they are calling "a suicide demon"

I don't know who Todd is, but I assume the Biddeford police know as they did spend a week scrapping the thousands of exploded parts of him off all the houses around Cutts st and South st, after he jumped in front of a train November 19, 2021 at 6:27PM. I was walking my dog and saw him, he was gibbering a lot of wild nonsense stuff like: "fibbery-gibbit-beebydi-booop-bop-boop-bop-booop-beeeeeeeep!" I amused he was either very drunk or very high on drugs or both and was attempting to make train sounds while he ran up and down the train tracks. I thought nothing of it, as he did this on a daily basis all summer long, he was a homeless man who lived in the ravine by the train tressal bridge over the river, the one the police kept chasing out of the black grain building turned storage units. There were 4 people on bicycles, driving circles around him bullying him, teasing him, taunting him daily around 3AM every morning. I saw them while I was walking my dog. It appeared to be his girlfriend and her friends based on the stuff she was yelling at him. Stuff like "You run off with that whore will you! WW I showed you! I killed your dog! Hahahahahaha! I killed your cat! Hahahahaha! And you ain't never gonna see your baby again! Hahahahaha!" I know every one says he commit suicide, but I think he was just running to get away from the harassers on the bikes and was too drunk to see the train. That's certainly what it looked like to me.

THAT was not a suicide, not what I saw happen. That was a man being bullied and chased down by four harassers riding bicycles up the tracks, driving him head on into a train on purpose to try to kill him so they could laugh about it. I wouldn't call THAT a suicide.

Anyways, I didn't know his name or that my mother was best friends with him. Though I had told her about the homeless man being bullied and her response was "Why should I care? It's just a homeless man!" She changed her tune quite a lot after he got hit by the train, and found out his name. The police contacted her or something, when they were trying to find his family. I guess she knew his family on FaceBook or something.

Since his death, me, my car, and my apartment have been attacked on a near daily basis from people who are making the claim that I am online spreading rumours and lies about Todd. I kept asking them who Todd was (because at that point I did not yet know they were talking about the homeless man hit by the train - though I saw him daily for about 4 months, ever since the police kicked him out of the storage until he'd been living in and he lived under the train bridge and in Rotary Park instead - he only ever spoke to me a few times - once to pet my dog and say "they took my dog" and saying "hi" as we passed on the sidewalk. So I never knew his name. He lived in a yellow pup-tent beside the tracks for a while, but one day it was laying out there cut to ribbons by a knife or scissors.)

Even though I only knew him from saying "hi" each night as we passed each other on the sidewalk and I never knew his name until after his death, more then a dozen people have arrived in my driveway (both the Biddeford and Old Orchard addresses) to accuse me and my friend Etiole and the words painted on my Volvo of being the cause of this Todd guy's train death.

They are focusing heavily on the words on my car, which say: "Have information about the murder of my family? Call FBI @ 207-774-9322"

There is a sign in my Old Orchard driveway which says: "Have information about the murder of my children? Call FBI @ 207-774-9322"

On November 14, 2013, at Southern Maine Community College, while I was 8 months pregnant, I was attacked by 3 people with golf clubs. A man and 2 women.

There is no reason for anyone who is NOT involved in the murder of my baby, to be upset about either the sign in my yard or the sign on my car, both of which are nothing more then the FBI phone number with the request for anyone who has information to call.

I don't understand why me asking for people to help find my baby's killer, is seen by my parents as such a huge threat. The only person who who feel threatened by that would be the person who hired the golf club people - Claire, Kendra, and the bald man - who have still not yet been found/caught/identified to this day 9 years later.

Both my mother and my father keep saying and I quote "take that shit off your car, you are only trying to start trouble!" and "get that sign out of your yard, you are only trying to stir stuff up". I'm trying to find the people who murdered my baby and left me crippled for the rest of my life. I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm not trying to cause trouble. How is me asking people to help identify the murderer, me trying to start trouble?

I was paralyzed for 5 months. I had to relearn to walk. I crippled the rest of my life, and my baby is dead. No one should have to live through this type of agony. And no one who commits crimes like this should be allowed to walk free. Would you stand back and do nothing, say nothing, while a criminal like that walked free? How is my asking people to come forward with any information they know, me trying to start trouble? You tell me that!

I'm not allowed to ask for help in finding the psychopath who murdered my baby and left me crippled for the rest of my life? What kind of logic is that?

Someone out there knows the names of these people. The older blond woman they called Claire, the younger blond woman with the Shirley Temple sausage curls, the red haired woman they call Kendra, the white haired man with the green pick up truck, the bald man with the 4door white pickup truck, the new redhaired women who screams on the front porch. These people, this group, they are the ones who were wielding golf clubs and murdered my baby. They are being allowed to get away wit murder and I'll spend the rest of my life demanding justice if I have to. You tell me, how is my asking if you know who they are, don't let them kill again, tell the FBI everything you know, by painting that request on my car and a sign in my yard, me looking to start trouble? My mother's priorities are fucked up. All she cares about is money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money! 

I'm the bed ridden, crippled by multiple attacks. The November 14, 2013 golf club attack, I was almost healed from, but the June 2016 shopping cart attack at my workplace at Scarborough WalMart re opened the 2013 injury and doctors can't operate this time because of the bone shards severing my spinal column. I'm crippled for the rest of my life and no one in this family ever cared. 

Both attacks the FBI wanted to talk to my parents and they refused to talk to him both times. My baby was murdered in the first attack. I was 8 months pregnant and all any of them would do was gibberish about "rosemary baby" and say there was no baby because it was a demon because it was Etiole's. My parents and the Atwaters hate Etiole that much, that they shun the existence of my baby and act like it was never there. That's how much they hate me. That's how cruel and hate filled they are towards me. They spent the last 50 years calling me demon possessed and them saying that is WHY local people attack me and killed my baby and left me crippled for the rest of my life. 

I am in bed 15 or more hours a day, I can barely sit up, I can barely stand up long enough to cook, I have to wear adult diapers since 2013 because half my organs don't work any more because the nerves from those organs to my spine are cut off. My hands shake so bad that it takes me hours to eat a single meal. I can't go back to college, I can't go back to work. But do they care? No. Not my mother. Not my father. Neither of them give a shit. They are both too damned selfish thinking about their own greed to ever once lift a finger to help me. Daddy treats me like a fucking slave and my mother is so far out of my life shunning me because bishop kenning in Saco ward told her too that she hasn't got a clue how bad things are.

I'm not doing a damned thing to any of them. I mind my own business. I write my novels. I don't contact them. I don't talk to them. I don't talk about them.  Someone is clearly pretending to be me online and is slandering me and getting sick of it. My mother flips out about everything thing under the sun and I never have a clue what she's talking about, because I never did or said any of the things she accuses me of. And my father and the Atwaters do the same thing. Some one is out there pretending to be me to get them worked into a frenzy just to sit back and laugh while watching my mother, my father, and the Atwaters be too damned stupid to think. My mother and my father and the Atwaters are all filled with so much pure hatred for me that it takes nothing to convince them to attack me. And whoever it is posting online pretending to be me, knows that and is taking advantage of it. 

They are obsessed with my land, because my mother's father used to tell people there was $7million in gold buried on my land. Several times over the years the Atwaters have invaded bringing with them shovels, pickaxes, and construction equipment, to illegally dig up my land. They've ripped up flowers, dug up bushes, cut down trees... usually they do it while I'm gone to the store, so I come back to find my property ripped to shreds. They've been doing this on an almost yearly basis since Grammy Helen died in 1983. According to what David Henry Atwater claimed, pirates buried treasure on my land in the 1500s. There is ZERO evidence that pirates ever buried anything on my land. Later he changed the story and said that the gold plates of the Book of Mormon Part 2 were buried on my land, this time he claimed an angel from god told him. So the Atwaters have multiple excuses for why they arrive to dig everything up, but it's always that they are gold crazy and have gold fever and are convinced if they dig long enough they'll find gold on my land.

The other obsession they have with my land is a homeless man they call "Etiole". They sometimes claim he is a demon, they other times claim he is an alien, for a few years they called him a cryptid, they often say he's the Mememegwasi spirit of the Saco River Curse, a few of them say he's a watcher/fallen angel, some say he's a ghost of an Indian chief, some say he's the ghost of a French solider, some have called him a Faerie/Leprechaun/FarDarrig ... and a whole slew of other claims. Regardless of what they call him, they all adimintly refuse to believe that he is just an ordinary human, an elderly homeless man who keeps to himself and desperately wants them to leave him alone. That's all he is. He's just a homeless man who lives in the woods and wants them to leave him alone.

The Atwaters are obsessed with Etiole on severe levels and have gone to alarming levels of monstrous harassment of him through the past 50 years. Part of their obsession with him, is caused by their previously mentioned gold fever. You see, Etiole travels all over Maine, I never know where he is at any given time, but when he's in the local area, I let him camp out on my land. I've let him stay with me like this for over 40 years. In the 1980s, one of the times they arrived to dig up my land, Etiole was sleeping in my 1964 Dodge 330, and according to them, he jumped out of the car and "threw blue lighten bolts" at them causing a tornado to destroy their construction equipment. They claimed he turned into a black serpent with red eyes and 6 blue wings that was hundreds of feet long, surrounded them and killed several of them by summoning lightning bolts. . . . uhm . . . yeah. I wasn't home so I didn't see this event, of Etiole supposedly attacking them. But it's pretty clear they had some sort of massive LSD hallucination, given many of them heavily used LSD back in the 1970s and 1980s when this event happened. According to Etiole, he just jumped out of the car and ran into the swamp to hide, he didn't see any of the stuff they described.

After that they got it into their heads that I had summoned a demon (and that Etiole was said demon) to protect my secret cache of pirate gold, and their battle cry of "kill the demon" is what caused them to blow up my house with a bomb October 18, 2006, drive over my house with a backhoe August 8, 2013, beat me up with golf clubs and murder my baby November 14, 2013, cut my 1964 Dodge 330 in half May 10, 2010. All those things you have all those police reports about.

They are convinced Etiole is in my yard to keep them from my gold. The only problem is, there is no gold on my land. Etiole is not a demon, and their extreme levels of harassment are utterly insane! 

But then, when they get caught on my camera, because I'm a daily vlogger, so the camera is running all the time, them they accuse me of harassing them, because their faces showed up on my livestream. Uhm... I'm on y own land, in my own bedroom, usually a few hours into my daily livestream when they get caught in the background trespassing. That's NOT me harassing them. That's them trespassing and vandalizing, and breaking and entering while not realizing I was home and them getting caught in the act of vandalizing and trespassing.

Then they run to FaceBook and make all kinds of wild claims about me stalking them. I'm crippled. I can't even get out of bed. Every time I have them on camera, it's because they were trespassing and breaking and entering. I'm in my bedroom livestream a game on my computer and they'll be smashing out windows and get mad that it happened to be the window in line with my livestream webcam on my computer. That's NOT be stalking them. That's me laying in bed playing Witcher 3 and them breaking in.

I'm too damned sick and crippled to even attempt to do half the crazy shit my mother and my father are accusing me of. And what's worse, my father is right here in the same apartment with me. He sees me every day, he knows how bad off my health is. 

Look how much I'm bleeding all over the house every day. Massive nose bleeds that last for hours to a time, not bleeding from my nose. Just coming out of my nose. I'm so dizzy I can't sit up for weeks to a time. I faint and blackout when I try to get up to go to the bathroom. The pain in my hip and pelvis and knee and spine is so bad I can't even move my fingers to type my novels. 

And look at what they do. Do they really think I'm physically capable of doing the things they accuse me of? They are so damned self centred and paranoid. It's all I can do just to sit up and eat something, how the hell do they think I can do the stuff they accuse me of? My day is spent focusing on trying to get my leg to move so I can make a meal, I don't even have time to think about them. 

It looks more and like my mother and my father are doing this stuff on purpose to try to kill me. My father knows how bad off my heart and lungs are and how difficult it is for me to breath after just a couple of steps. His mother left that land to me in her will in 1983. He stole it, had it put into his name illegally. He's been pissed ever since her death, because she gave everything to me not him. That's been a big problem for him for the last 40 years. He raves about it alongside his ravings about going to Utah taking him off the fire department. He hates my mother because of Utah, blames her every day for losing his fire department pension. He raves about it all night long every single night. He blames me for his mother disinheriting him. He raves about that all the time too. I was only grandchild That's why she left everything to me. Including the land that he stole and put in his name. That land is rightfully mine, his mother gave it to me, and he can't stand it. He's needling my mother about the land just to spite his mother.

He's only trying to get the land away from me because he is mad that the town didn't take it. His mother wanted it to stay in the family. It had been in her family since 1530. Her family was the original settlement family of Old Orchard and my land is that spot that the first house in Old Orchard was built.  My father stopped paying taxes to spite his mother and lose the land. He said so many times. He was angry when I bought the land back from the town. He still is. He wants it out of the family because his mother wanted it in the family. That's why he's trying to turn my mother against me over the land. Because he gates his own mother that much.

Keep in mind the 4 door white truck showed up at my workplace daily. Even though I never knew ahead of time what store I would be working at. I was a retail merchandiser and stocked shelves at dozens of stores all over the state. Walmart's every where, CVS, khols, sometimes local, sometimes as far as Freeport and once in Vermont and once in Massachusetts.  I got the notice of which store to be at 15 minutes before I left. So the only person who ever knew where I was going was my father. 

And yet the 4 door white truck would also arrive ahead of me and be waiting. They didn't follow me, they got their first.

And the police caught the truck and the driver in 2017. Kathy BR owned the truck. Her son was the driver.

The smith's are my parents friends. My mother's visiting and home teachers for years.

Kathy was the district emergency dispatch for all the towns in the area, not just old Orchard. That's why none of the 911 calls went through during the attacks by the 4 door white truck. He only attacked while she was on duty. She never forwarded any of the calls so officers never were told to come help me.

That includes the November 14, 2013 golf club attack in South Portland. But the college security officer made a report even though the police never arrived. That big black officer who was head of security was on duty and him and 2 student officers from the police academy made the report.

And FBI found the data from the calls, that never got forwarded to police, that's why Kathy BR lost her job. Because she's the one who tampered with the 911 call files.

Tim and Kathy BR both, not together, individually, arriving separately, both arrived at my tent multiple times throughout the entire year of 2013, saying they were coming to speak to me on behalf of someone who wanted to remain anonymous. So I never knew who sent them. Each time they arrived all they would say was that I had to tear down "the little yellow house" as they called the shop. 

August 8, 2013 the backhoe drove over the shop while I was at work on the food truck down by the pier.

I never saw Tim or Kathy again after that. Not once. And these were people who stopped by to visit my parents daily for over 40 years. Since August 8, 2013 and the backhoe attack on my house, Kathy and Tim have gone to alarming extreme levels to avoid running into me. They just down the street, on one of the private drives, so it's difficult to avoid running into me, and we used to see them a few times a week at local grocery stores. They both, if they see me in a store, literally throw whatever they are carrying across the store and run out of the store like they have a pack of rabid wolves on their heels. It's pretty fascinating thing to see.

My cousin and next door neighbour Tim Murphy was murdered that same week, a few days before the backhoe. His body was left at the cascade Ross road crossroad. 14 days later his head was left at the Portland Ave Ross road crossroad road. His mother put up the big white cross a month later. 

Note that there were THREE 4-door white trucks, a smaller one, a larger one, and a mega-sized giant one -like a Dodge Power Wagon type only it was not a Dodge Power Wagon it was one of the look alike brands, possibly a Nissan. The owner and driver of the big-big-super sized one is still unidentified. The other 2 were both caught in 2017, Kathy BR's truck being the larger of the 2. The 3 trucks often showed up together and drive circles around me, on Rout 1/Portland Rd, while I was driving. They would slam my car from back and sides and push me off the road. Several times they did damage to the frame of my car with had to be repaired multiple times. They've done several tens of thousands in damages to my Volvo over the years. You already have a lot of the smashed up car photos on file, at both Biddeford and Old Orchard police departments, you each have more then a dozen reports for attacks on my car -though the FBI has said someone attempted to destroy several of the records with my name, at the Old Orchard police department. FBI said they arrested the officers who did that. I don't know which files were damaged or how. 

For several years/decades now, I have had multiple people trying to buy my land. The same people over and over again. Only buying my land is not what they are asking for. Rather, they claim my land is cursed and I have to sell it to break the curse. Crazy, I know, but that's what they say. The crazier part is they say that after I sell my land I have to hand the money over to them so they can use it as a down payment on a house they want to buy in Kennebunk. The people in question are my parents and they've been doing this for well over 20 years now. I've always said "no, I'm not selling my land" and left it at that.

My mother (she changes her last name often, I'm not sure which she currently uses) and my father my father both have become extreme hostile and violent the past 2 weeks, and I'm not sure what set them off, but they are hyper infuriated on my refusal to sell my land and give them the money for a down payment of a house in Kennebunk. 

I did not suspect them, all these years, because always been other people showing up and say they were contacting me on behalf of someone who wanted to remain anonymous, but now they are directly doing it themselves.

Starting in June 2001, lots of harassment started and at first, I did not suspect them, or think there was a connection. But now they are outright bragging to my face, that they are the ones behind the vandalism. Like I said, check the police records for 144, 146, 148 Portland Ave from June 2001 til current date. There have been dozens of attacks, including drive by shootings, the bombing of my house, the backhoe driving over my next house, me being beat up with golf clubs which is why I am crippled now for the rest of my life and how my baby died.

The FBI is involved. If you need more information beyond what I've written here,  FBI Agent Andy Drewer can be reached at 207-774-9322 he is at the Portland Office on Middle Street, he is in charge of the investigation, of several events, namely the 2013 Boston Marathon bombing, which my uncle Paul Martel went to prison for building the bomb and selling it to ISIS. The 2006 bombing of the house at 144 Portland Ave Old Orchard Beach, Maine. My baby was murdered November 14, 2013, a backhoe drove over my house at 146 Portland August 8, 2013 that's why I'm at the Biddeford apartment right now, because we can't get Kathy BR at the town hall to get a building permit, even though she's not the one in charge of that, she takes over our application and won't let it be approved, because she claims I shouldn't be allowed to live in Old Orchard, due to my having left the Mormon church to become a Voodoo Priestess, she says that makes me a witch and I'm not allowed to apply for a house building permit on those grounds, so, it's been 9 years and I'm still without a house on my land in Old Orchard and still stuck in a Biddeford apartment.

It is a long list of a lot of things happening. I'll try to organize it all in order:

At it's start, the whole thing goes back to a homeless man who wishes to remain anonymous, so I'm not using his real name here, nor have I ever used his real name anywhere online or offline or with any conversation with any one.

He, didn't do anything wrong. Quite the contrary, all he's ever done is live in the Ross Forest and surrounding swamps and marshes along the Saco River in Pine Point, OOB, Saco, Biddeford, and probably other areas, he moves around a lot rotating where he sets up camp, something he's done since 1953. I know quite a few people have seen him and talked to him, I don't know if any police officers have ever encountered him or not. Because he is elderly and in frail health, I often let him stay on my land. He's the ONLY person who has permission to be there. Herein lays the problem: he's deformed from acid burn scars covering most of his body. Churches around the area have spent decades accusing him of being a cryptid, alien, demon, watcher, fallen angel, you name it, someone has called him some weird conspiracy. According to him, himself, he was a Jewish WW2 concentration camp survivor, who arrived in OOB with a bunch of other refugees in 1953. Because he's so deformed by his scars, he was bullied by the locals who refused to believe him a human, and that's why he fled into the forest and never set foot in society again. The problem is, the people harassing me have made up this wild conspiracy that he's a demon and I'm protecting him, and they claim they need to get me off my land in order to get to him.

This all started in 1978.

My parents (my father and my mother), uncles (12), aunts (12+), and cousins (64 at the 1970s/1980s time - more then 400 today), teased and bullied me throughout my childhood about him, but they teased and bullied everyone about everything, so I didn't think that much of their bullying back in the 1970s and 1980s when it first started happening. It was just them being the toxic bullies that they are to everyone.

It wasn't until the 1990s and 2000s that it started to become a problem. And 207 is when I first realized how big of a problem it really was.

In 1996 and 1997 Aunt aunt B sent out lots of emails to the family claiming the emails had been written by me. I did not have email, internet, or even a computer yet. She got Dickie (Richard Merlin Atwater) and David (Atwater) and Joey (Atwater -the one who lives in Australia and is wanted by the FBI for kidnapping and selling babies back in the 1980s- FBI can't arrest him until he leaves Australia -I'm not sure why- so he became a citizen. I don't know the details of what he's wanted for.) in raving warpath over it. All three of them showed up in OOB -even Joey from Australia-though I didn't know he was wanted by the FBI back than. But they arrived here in OOB to yell at me in person, because aunt B made the claim that the emails were from me, so they were all mad at me for having written them, but I never did know the contents of the emails because I didn't write them.

I did not see the emails. I didn't have access to a computer back then ad I didn't have internet until 2007 a full 11 years later. Dickie had several of them printed out and waving them around, but I never got a chance to read what they said. One of the emails was 64 pages long, and according to Dickie was all about aliens. I know nothing about aliens, so most of what he said was just gibberish nonsense to me. This was in 1996, shortly before Heaven's Gate killed 39 people in California and at the time, all 3 of those uncles, plus a few other uncles were members of Heaven's Gate, and one uncle -Mervin Bruce Atwater-made the claim to be "the leader of the Maine division of Heaven's Gate"- I don't know if he actually was a Heaven's Gate leader or not, but he maintained that he was right up until 2019, and in April 2019 he was making the claim to be following Comet Wormwood because HaleBop was the wrong one. Like I said, they were coming up with some pretty wild alien and UFO claims and I'm not sure how much of what they claimed was true.

Well, this was the first time I heard the word "Etiole" which was the nickname they had given to the homeless man who sometimes camped out on my yard. Etiole is not his name, it's always been just the word the Atwaters call him (they say it means man from the stars or alien and that it's a French word. I don't know French, aunt B is the one who knows French, so I never would have given him a French name.) Somewhere in the emails, aunt B had called the homeless man "Etiole" and "amphibious alien" and made the claim that he was an "alien grey" who had abducted me to some mother-ship.  

I have never been abducted by aliens and never made such a claim. I never heard such foolishness. But, that this point, I wasn't fully aware of what they were talking about, so I didn't yet realize they were saying that I was making the claim to have been abducted by aliens.

That's the summer they all showed up talking about Etiole and amphibious aliens and alien abduction. aunt B was the one who started all of that stuff about Etiole, who I never called Etiole. But that was how it got started...all this stuff that is happening now with the vandalism and threats going on this week March 2022.

Bruce and Dickie went to a bunch on MUFON forums from 1996 to 2007 spreading lies about me and Etiole calling him a demon and alien and claiming I was an alien abducted. I found out about what they were doing in 2007 after they'd already been doing it for 11 years. 

I don't think aunt B has ever stopped sending out emails about Etiole while pretended to be me, I think she is still doing it. I think this, because in December 2021, I was at the Biddeford library when an elderly man came over to me, asked if I was EelKat and asked me why I was sending him hundreds of emails about Etiole, and who was Etiole? I told the man I don't use email, I've never emailed anyone, I don't know what he's talking about. He says he gets over 300 emails a day about Etiole from someone claiming to be EelKat. But here's the thing: EelKat is not something I call myself. I'll explain that in a bit.

First, let's go back to 1994. Before aunt B started sending the emails out, while claiming they were written by me. My father (my father) was the one who told the Atwaters about Etiole. My father and Dickie both called him "the white monkey". 

In 1994 and 1996 Bishop Paul Morgan asked me to his office and showed me a bunch of letters, all of them signed "The White Monkey, OST". He said the letters were written to sound like I had written them but he said he'd seen my handwriting before and knew I hadn't written these. The Bishop wanted to know if I recognized the handwriting. Some had been written by my father. Others had been written by Dickie. One was written by my mom's father David Henry Atwater who died several years ago now. This was the Mormon bishop in Cape Elizabeth. This bishop had more then one hundred letters laying on his desk, and he had several boxes more around his desk. He said he received no fewer then 5 letter every day for several months, and was quite concerned for my safety as he felt the letter writers may be "mentally unhinged" and "highly dangerous" based on what he called "several homicidal rants" contained in the letters. He said he was giving the letters to Paul Peterson, at Pine Land Centre Mental Health Institute in New Gloucester, because he felt my father and my uncle Dickie should be committed due to the contents of the letters.

The letters looked physically bizarre. Each one started like a normal letter, straight across sentences, line by line, but upon reaching the end of the page, the words spiralled around the outer edge and into a circle around the page, then upside down bottom to top between the first rows.

Each letter contained codes and cryptographers, and large portions of the letters were unreadable unless you cracked the "secret code" that was included with them.

Both my father and my uncle Dickie frequently wrote in that weird spiral and zigzag of lines fashion. My father's letters were the ones that included the cryptography and hidden codes. Dickies letters were just weird spiralling but no codes to solve.

I did not read any of the letters, but the Bishop was deeply upset by them, and stated that he used to be Catholic before becoming Mormon and said that if he was still Catholic he'd recommend my father had an excorsim down, because as the Bishop put it "the white monkey letters are the closet thing I've ever seen to demon possession".

Later that same year Paul Peterson from Pine Land Centre arrived at church and asked to talk to me. He had with him, some of the White Monkey letters and like the Bishop asked me to id the handwriting.

Stake President Earnshaw (of the same church) later called me in to his office for similar letters he had also received and again the white monkey letters were written by mostly daddy and some Dickie all pretending to be me, trying to make it look like I was pretending to be Etiole. 

In total 16 Bishops and 2 stake presidents had contacted me over the years about white monkey letters, all citing they were receiving them daily. Some said members were receiving them. When I stopped attending the Mormon church, my mother's minister's at the 15 churches she was attending at the time, all started getting the letters. (At the time my mom had a belief that she had to be in church as close to 24 hours a day as possible, so she was attending week day church services at every church that had them, even though she was not a member of most of those churches. She became an atheist last I had heard and attends no churches at all anymore as far as I know.) 

My father was in and out of the hospital a lot during this time period (1991 to 1996-ish), due to the violent fights between him and my mother which included him twice being hospitalized due to blood gushing head injuries from a brick, which also included OOB police arresting my mother for beating him said brick. The psychiatrist from Pine Land Centre felt that my dad suffered serious brain damage from one of the brick beating attacks, and wanted him to press charges against my mother, but he refused. The psychiatrist said he felt that my dad's White Monkey letters was a side effect of the multiple head injuries he was hospitalized for. 

The white monkey letters stopped in 2007 when the psychiatrist at Biddeford hospital diagnosed my father as having schizophrenia and put him on psychiatric medicine. The Biddeford police have this arrest on record. We were living at Water st at the time and my father had tried to kill me and my brother Joshua and also himself. The police arrested him. He was in the psych ward for around a week, and released because of the drastic change in his personality that was caused by the medication. He was only released on the condition that he maintained the meds.

Since 2007 no one has mentioned Etiole or the white monkey, until November 19, 2021, when things (the vandalism and harassment and threats) started escalating, the week Todd Murphy died when people started showing up in Biddeford driveway yelling about Etiole and calling him a suicide demon, claiming my Volvo was demon possessed, and accusing me of driving my car around town to drive people to suicide. I don't know who these people were. The one doing most of the yelling has very unique and very identifiable hair: it's a "high fashion" stick straight bob, like what you see in Italy Runways, super stiff as a board, stick straight, like she uses a few jars of jell to get it so straight. And a weird dark-purple tinted red. Very anime cartoon looking hair. You can't mistake it. She always wears big dark glasses, and usually has a little skinny blond man with her, who appears to be her husband or boyfriend. She frequently is beating him over the head with a baby car seat, while yelling at me and my car, while standing on the front porch of our building. They don't live here, I don't know who they re or where they come from. She did it almost every day of December, and most of the last week of November 2021.

This is the first time anyone has mentioned Etiole in years.

They call him Etiole sometimes, White Monkey other times. 

I should tell you where the term "white monkey" come from.

There was a white monkey, in OOB in the 1970s. It belonged to Helen Pearly of Pine Point and was part of her "White Animal Farm" zoo that she ran, which was a little petting zoo of all albino animals. I think it shut down in the early 1980s. Most older folks of the area remember Helen Pearly and her albino zoo animals - which included an elephant, and other such animals. Well, one day the white monkey escaped and Helen Pearly was a friend of my grandmother's (Helen Ricker Allen) and Helen Pearly showed up at 146 Portland Ave (than 862 because the road was renumbers in 1982) to tell my Grammy Helen the monkey had been seen nearby and to let her know if we saw it. Well, after that me and the other neighbour kids started going out into the swamps looking for the white monkey because Helen Pearly was offering a reward for it being returned. And one day we saw it, and tried to catch it and we followed it into the swamps and we found a homeless man out there. He was sick and starving to death. 

The white monkey belonged to Helen Pearly and has nothing to do with Etiole at all. In 1978 Helen Pearly had a pet white monkey that got lost. Me and Atwater cousin Micheal and my Murphy cousin Timmy (the one whose white cross is on the Ross rd he died in 2013) saw it in the woods out back and tried to catch it. We found Etiole the same day. Etiole is a homeless man who lives behind my land in the woods. Me and Micheal and Timmy took him food. And to this day, we still do, except Michael moved away and Timmy died in 2013 so that left just me taking care of Etiole today. Etiole is very old, probably 80s or 90s today. He's very small, not much bigger than a child, maybe around 5'1"-ish. He's covered with acid burns, scars, and tattoos. He has extreme PTSD and is terrified of the sight of people. He's very skittish, almost mute, speaks mostly with his hands, and run terrified from any people who try to get near him. The only reason he didn't run the day we found him, was because he was very sick, probably pneumonia or something like that. Had we children not found him and taken him food for the next several weeks, he probably would have died that same summer. He must have been in his 50s or 60s back then in 1978.

We told the adults about him, and they went to find him, but, they found some plants instead out there in the swamp, and my mom called the police, and the OOB police called the state police, and the state police called the FBI and the entire rest of the week was lots of police digging up lots of plants. Adam and the Babe, were 2 police officers who were left to stand watch over us children while every one else hauled out the plants. News reporters showed up and the news stations called it "Maine's largest drug raid". I don't know what drug plants look like so I don't know what kind of drugs they were. According the the FBI agents who talked to use kids (we were all 5 to 10 years old at the time) a "bad name named Bryan Cyr put those bad plants in the swamp". The FBI agents said they had been looking for Bryan Cyr and his Cyr Clan from Connecticut for several years and wanted to know had we seen him.  We had not, though we did see him about a year later when the big shoot out happened at 142 Portland Ave in front of the Dome house - the day the dome house blue up because Anne Cyr set fire to the meth lab inside- I saw her poured 3 gas cans on the house then throw several matches. Bryan fled in a robin egg blue micro-mini pick up truck, screaming that the meth lab was gonna blow. The whole house went up like a mushroom cloud. It's the only time I ever saw the Cyr Clan.) 

Adam and the Babe went with us kids to look for the sick homeless man/Etiole as he's now called by locals, but he was gone by then, because it had been 5 or 6 or more hours since the adults found the plants. The 2 police officers looked all over the forest for him, and stopped when they found a human leg bone in the Bachelder Brooke and took that with them and left to join the other officers. (144, 146, and 148 Portland Ave and the swamps and forest behind it is a massive Native American grave - there are at least 500 graves, that back in the 1970s all still had markers, most of the dates are 1400s to 1500, but in the mid 1980s someone stole most all of the slate grave markers, so they are unmarked today. I assume the leg bone was from one of those graves - human bones wash up out of the ground all the time on these sections of land because there are just so many Native American graves all over the place here, on my land and the lands abutting me. It's why the Powder Horn campground can't expand any closer to my land - they hit Native American graves last time they expanded the campground.)

So, because they got sidetracked by all the drug plants and all the police everywhere for the rest of the week, the adults never saw the homeless man or the white monkey as both had been scared off by the huge crowd of drug raid crews.

For some reason because we found him while looking for Helen Pearly white monkey my father and the Atwaters got it in their heads that Etiole was a demon alien shape shifter who turned into a white monkey to lure me and Micheal into the woods. And that's how their stupid ass alien and demon rumours got started.

I should point out, her family, The Atwaters, are the Scottish Traveller Gypsies, aka as The Scottish Mafia by several white Americans, her brothers Bruce and David and several of Davids adult children, grandchildren, and great grand children call themselves Scottish Mafia  and act every bit fitting on that title, which is both why the FBI is investigating and why I have nothing to do with them.

Right after the June attack on her car, a large group of Irish Travellers showed up from the Carilinas and Tennessee and were setting up squatting camps all around the area, The had set up a large camp on BB street behind my Main st/Cutts St apartment in Biddeford, setting up in the big chain link fenced yard on the corner (which is why the owners have since roped the land off.) I didn't think anything of it at first, because the Irish Travellers show up in Southern Maine every year for decades now, so there's nothing unusual about seeing them setting up camps on any space they can find, you see it every year. Usually they camp on the cow farms in Dayton/Buxton/North Saco area, so seeing them in Biddeford was a bit strange.

I point this out because the week they arrived on BB, my mother and her Atwater siblings and their families flipped out big time. They put heavy focus on "the brown house on the corner and the chain link fence yard across the street" and laid out to harassing the landlords of those two locations. They had a list of around 100 addresses in Biddeford, Cape Elizabeth, and many other places included Rhode Island and Connecticut. I saw the list because my mother showed up at my yard waving it around and demanding I help her and the Atwaters stage an attack on the Irish Travellers, whom she claimed was family of the man in the green truck with the 2x4 attack on her car.

A war between the Scottish Travellers/Scottish Mafia/The Atwaters and the Irish Travellers -which include The Cry Clan drug gang from Connecticut - the one the FBI is here looking for-, is the last thing I want to get involved in. Those same two clans are the ones who did the 4-5-8 shoot out back in the 1970s/1980s, when they blew up the dome house at 142 Portland Ave. They were armed to the teeth with truck loads and school bus loads of illegal military guns back in the 4-5-8 shoot out and I don't want to see what kind of weaponry that same group lugs around now 40 years later.

I am a Voodoo Priestess. Voodoo is also known as Folk Catholicism. It is a branch of the Catholic Church. Voodoo is a Christian religion, that focuses on reverence the ancestors. Hollywood Horror movies have slandered our religion to such an extent that the average person thinks Voodoo is dark magic, death spells, curses, and voodoo dolls. Those are all things that exist only in Hollywood and do not exist in real world Voodoo. The problem is made worse, when teens and young adults, not knowing the actual religion, call themselves Voodoo while practising things they see in movies.  While the older generations of Gypsies and Travellers know the difference, younger generation have fallen far from the old traditions, especially the old religion, and sadly, even among Gypsies and Travellers today, many in the age group of 60 years old and younger, only know Voodoo from Horror movies and not from their grandmother's actual practice.

I say this because my mother and her Atwaters wanted me to join then as a "figure head" for their cause. They specifically demanding I summon demons, make voodoo dolls, cast curses, and use magic to kill the list of people living at the addresses on the list they had. In short they attempted to hire me to be a quasi-hit-man for them.

When I explained to them that this is not what Voodoo is about, Voodoo is peaceful, non-violent, we shun weapons and hurtful acts of all types, they lashed out at Etiole -who was not here, it was just me they were yelling at, yelling about him. My mother called Etiole a demon, said he was my familiar, said "I know you work with demons, you can't lie to me" and "you cast death curses on people all the time you lying little bitch, you just won't do it for me because you want to spite your mother, after all I do for you!

I made a Twitch livestream video that same day, telling what was going on and what I feared was about to happen, because I have seen these same two Gypsy clans go to war with each other before.

Well, I have too much to deal with with my health. I'm bedridden 15+ hours a day, so I do nothing but play video games and write novels and edit novels, ALL of which I do on livestream - yes, I livestream for 12 to 15, sometimes 19 hours each and every single day, and I have 92TB of hard drive full of that video footage all the way back to 2015 - I have every minute of every day of my life not only live streamed on Twitch, but I have ALL the video footage files, which mean I have footage of all the attacks, all the yelling at my car, all the demanding I cast death spells, all the trying to hire me as a hit man - all of it. I have over 15k hours of video footage. And because most of the attacks happened during a livestream, there are also hundreds of witness online who saw and heard the attacks and threats already, seeing and hearing them as they were happening.

Going back to the suspecting someone is impersonating me... My mother makes the claim that it is her right to cut the wires off my Biddeford apartment building, because she claims I've put her name, address, and where she goes online. I've never put her address or name or where she goes on the internet. Don't know what she's talking about. I gave her the FBI contact info and told her that if she actually is seeing "me" posting this stuff she claims I'm posting online, then she needs to forward that stuff to the FBI because it's someone impersonating me, and that was one of the things the FBI has suspected was happening so they are actively looking for that kind of stuff. They are trying to get to the bottom of who it is spreading these wild, crazy ass rumours and lies, both doing it in my name and doing it about me.

They've already located a shut down a few dozen impersonation of me, social network accounts, and so far, to date, all of them have belonged to just one person: my mother's brother Mervin Bruce Atwater. Well, it makes sense that HE would know her home address and where she goes, seeing how, for the past decade they were kind of joined at the hip and did everything together. Yeah, of course he knows where she lives and what car she drives and where she goes. 

Also, I never went to school, she did not allow it, There were several legal/court battles between my mom and the OOB school and the state of Maine ad the department of education throughout the 1980s, over the fact that she was actively refusing to allow me to attend school. So I never learned to do math or numbers. I don't know how to count or do money or any stuff like that. And numbers don't register in my head for some reason. People will tell me a phone number or home address and 5 seconds later my mind is blank on the numbers. I can't remember them. That's why when something like an attack happens I write down the tie and date immediately and keep it on a chart - I have a list, day by day, all times and dates of every attack since June 2001. I wouldn't be able to remember what happened when if I didn't keep a list like that.

Well, my mother knows all of this, so she knows even if she had told me her address, which she didn't, I wouldn't have remembered it long enough to even write it down.

In June 2021, I found out she moved, because I was walking my dog -we walk 3 to 4 miles a day, all over Biddeford, Old Orchard, and Scarborough, because I am trying to rebuild my leg muscles after having been bedridden since 2013, with only minimal movement- Doctors said I would never walk again and I aim to prove them wrong and well I have, because I am at least walking enough to walk my dog each day, but it is very difficult, and every step I take feels like a sword stabbing up my right leg and into my spine, because of the nerve damage. It is why I walk so slow and limp so bad, because it hurts terrible to step down.

Well, one day I was walking my dog and all of a sudden, there's my mother, telling me that I'm standing in front of her house and I was surprised, because last I knew she lived several miles away. I had no clue she lived 2 streets over from me and that she had done so for 3 years!

I don't know how she expects me to even know where she goes considering I've had no contact with her in almost a decade now, not since the stunt she pulled April 10, 2015 when she broke into my motorhome, filled it with feces, and then locked her 13 cats in it to frame me for animal abuse. She did not expect the Old Orchard Beach police to arrive and confiscate her cats and then not give them back to her and she has been in a social media battle with several animal shelters, veterinarians, animal control officers, and police officers ever since. Most of her harassment of these people has been targeted at former OOB town hall worker DF  and OOB police officer WW , both of whom she has been harassing on FaceBook for the past 7 years. You can ask DF  and WW  and their family and friends on FaceBook, how bad it has gotten. In recent months she added a new person to her FaceBook harassment, I don't know their name, just that it's the ex-wife and 15 year old son of someone named Todd Murphy who recently died from being hit by a train in front of my Biddeford apartment on Nov 19, 2021. Sometimes she says his death was a suicide, other times she says he was murdered and thrown in front of the train. I don't know which it is, I didn't know him, and only have her word for any of it.

In her mind, the way the whole thing was supposed to happen was: you police were supposed to confiscate my motorhome and she would take her cats and go home. 

What actually happened was: you police confiscated her cats, and I kept my motorhome.

She has spent the last 7 years harassing every pet shelter and rescue in New England, trying to find the cats.

In answer to questions about the cats from April 2015—those were cats belonging to Wayne Whitten of Biddeford, Maine. I was never able to talk about it because of the court case going on between Wayne's family and the Atwaters.

To make matters even worse, the cats were not hers, either. Rather, they belonged to Wayne Whitten and his daughter. My mother had stolen the cats from Wayne, in an act of retaliation, after Wayne refused to hand over to her, his father, William's land.

If you do not know, there are several polygamists in my family, all on the Atwater side. My mother is one of them. Wayne Whitten is one of her many Husbands, and therefore Wayne Whitten is also my stepfather.

In May 2010, my mother took a chainsaw to my 1964 Dodge 330. But it was not the ONLY car she attacked that week. Two days earlier, she took a chainsaw to Wayne's black 1970s vintage Dodge. AFTER, she locked her Old English sheepdog in the trunk and left it there for 6 months, and then tried to say that Wayne killed her dog, when in fact, she had.

Many people in Biddeford, Maine knew Wayne Whitten and his father William Whitten, and both men were known for the wild tales of Wayne's 5th wife, Jeannie, who daily beat him, gathered her older brothers to beat him, and hospitalized him several times, multiple times nearly killing him. That wife is also my mother.

Unfortunately for Wayne Whitten, no one would believe him about how violent and psychotically deranged his wife was and in the space of only a few weeks, his father, then his cats, and then Wayne himself all died. Because of the violent nature of Wayne's death, details were withheld from the public.

Three cats—the white cat Old Lady, and the 2 tabby's Trouble and Sassy, were already dead before the police arrived, and all three were diagnosed as having been force-fed rat poison. This is why, even though my mother put 13 cats in my motorhome, the police only took 10 cats.

Wayne's father, William, owned the cape house next door to Ben's Flooring in Biddeford, behind Walmart. In his 90s, with his health failing, my mother arrived demanding William sell his house and give her the money for a down payment on a mansion in Kennebunk. The exact same demands she is now making at me, these 7 years later. She did this to William Whitten in 2015, and Wayne's daughter to this day maintains that my mother's threats, demands, and harassment were the major contributing factors of William's death.

My mother took the Whitten cats, intending to hold them hostage, until William sold his house and gave her the money. This was why she hid the cats in my motorhome. This is also why when the police showed up asking about the cats, I had no clue what they were talking about and let them search the motorhome telling them there were no cats in it. My mother broke into my motorhome and hid the cats in there, apparently 3 days earlier, and I was unaware she had done this so was unaware the cats were there.

This is also why, when police officer Will Watson asked how many cats there were and what their names were, why I did not know how many cats there were and only knew the names of a couple of the cats that I had heard Wayne talk about.

William Whitten died while the cat fiasco was going on.

Wayne, realizing what my mother had done to his cats, tried to get them back, but he died a few weeks later.

Wayne, his father, and his cats all died a few weeks apart from each other.

My mother went around triumphantly bragging that she had gotten Wayne's father's land, via being Wayne's wife, and set about to the process of buying the house in Kennebunk. And got slapped with a reality check when the two wills got read and both William and Wayne had left everything they had to Wayne's daughter.

In raging inferno, my mom lashed out at Wayne's daughter, and a lawsuit happened, with Wayne's daughter charging my mother with kidnapping the cats, and using rat poison to slowly poison Wayne. A massive Facebook war happened between the Whittens and the Atwaters as my mother got her Atwater thugs involved, and the Whitten's fled in terror once they realized the rumours that my mother was part of the Scottish Mafia, was in fact, very, very, very true.

To this day, the remains of Wayne Whitten's surviving family live in mortal terror, daily vandalism, and barbaric levels of harassment at the hands of my mother, and her brothers Bruce and David and David's sons and grandsons.

More details of what happened can be found here: Amphibious Aliens: https://www.eelkat.com/AmphibiousAliens.html

And no, for the people who are confused, Amphibious Aliens has nothing to do with aliens. It is about a homeless man whom my mother and her brother Bruce, over hyper focused on, and together my mother and Bruce created an elaborate alien abduction and demon possession hoax, so they could try to scam several dozen locals out of their houses.

This cat stealing, house stealing scam is something they have been doing to people all over Southern Maine since BEFORE I was even born. The earliest known attempt at this house stealing scam dates back to their father David Henry Atwater and a house he stole in the 1930s in Rumford Maine. At the time, my grandfather used the hoax of an angel from heaven coming down and telling him to take the Rumford farm. And at the time, my grandfather was a transport driver for Honey Fizt's ACTUAL Boston Mafia, which is WHY, the Atwaters make the claim to be the Scottish Mafia. Their claim is that because they are Scottish, and their father worked for Honey Fitz that they are Mafia. But the Atwaters are neither Scottish nor Mafia, both claims are outright lies that are nothing more than part of the scam they run.

As can be seen with BOTH what she has spent the past 5 decades doing to Etiole and what she is currently doing to Todd Murphy's family on and off FaceBook, you can see how much my mother hyper focuses on homeless people and abusing their friends and relatives and using the homeless person's homelessness as excuses for the scams she runs.

That she spent decades running a land stealing scam in Etiole's name, and now is running another land stealing scam in Todd Murphey's name is utterly deplorable.

And you people who wonder WHY I've not had contact with my mother in 30 years, WHY I shun her. WHY I hate her and her Atwater thugs so much... you are right now witnessing it live as they do it all over again, this time taking advantage of the pain and suffering of Todd Murphy's family to try to steal land from people in the name of a homeless man who was killed by a train.

I am thoroughly and utterly disgusted with my mother's vile abuse of the Murphy family and what she is doing in the name of a dead man.

I've said it thousands of times before and I'll say it again: The Atwaters are scum.

The Atwaters devote their lives to abusing homeless people and the families of those homeless people, just so they can run their filthy scams, and I’m fucking sick of the Atwaters and their filth.


She has had several retaliation attacks happen to her, done by family and friends of the people she's harassing on FaceBook. the retaliation attacks included a Biddeford Public Works road grader being driven into her yard and over her car in 2017. Two additional attacks on her next car, the following year. And in June 2021 a man driving a green pick up truck drove into her yard and beat her car with a 2by4. (Note, I did not witness any of these attacks on her cars and only have her word on what happened.)

All of these people she is fighting with on FaceBook, I don't know, they are people she knows and they are not on my FaceBook and I blocked her and all the Atwaters from my FaceBook back in May 2015, when her and her nieces and nephews and siblings were posting death threats on my FB profile. One cousin cousin name, posted pictures of herself carrying a machine gun (not automatic rifle - but a machine gun - the big type you put on a tripod and have a belt full of hundreds of bullets slung over your shoulder- similar to a gatland gun but not as big, though she had pictures of her gatland gun too that she was also posting on my FB) She'd write under the pictures "This is the gun I'm going to shoot you with"... her husband was one of the guys arrested after the Jan 6 attack, by the way - the guy in Florida with the Nancy something's ( forget her last name, I think it began with a P? I don't know American politics, I find it all confusing so I'm not sure who the Nancy woman was). He stole her pulpit and  he was posting pictures of him stealing on FB. Her mom is aunt L, and she and he were among the 23 cousins that the FBI has been trying to find because they supplied a lot of the guns for the Jan 6th attack, according to posts they made on FB. I don't know, I never saw any such posts because I have them all blocked n FB since 2015. Her brother cousin name was also posting pictures of him carrying guns and writing death threats underneath on my FB wall. His messages said: "I'm an ordained Aaronic Priest and god has given me permission to blow your brains out with this gun". cousin name and cousin name are 2 of David and aunt L's 15 adult kids -all are 40 to 60+ years old. David is my mom's oldest brother, he's in his 80s. He is very violent, there has never been an occasion of him arriving on my land in Old Orchard, that did not involve his trying to kill me, usually by strangling me. He is the most violent of all the uncles. Several times while he's been here he beat up his adult kids by hitting them in the face with weights off of dumbells. 

Most of the Atwater men are retired Marines, and all of them are over 6'2" the tallest, is 7'3". These guys are HUGE and are all weightlifters. You don't want to cross one of the Atwater uncles, they are former Marines trained in weaponless combat. David runs a compound in Palmyra.. . and you might have just seen his crew in the news - they were doing a squatter's rights takeover of that big mansion next door to Stephen King in Bangor and somehow the place caught fire. The news reports didn't mention Stephen King and went out of their way to get camera angles that kept King's house out of the news, but I'm as familiar with Bangor streets as I am Old Orchard and Biddeford streets, so I recognized which house it was on the news, that got attacked by the squatters doing a take over war. 

My uncle and his kids are trying to confiscate the land all around Stephen King - they say they have the right to because no one was ever paid any money for being in The Thinner movie. That happened about 2 weeks ago, the news did not list the squatters name, but like I said, it's my uncle and his crew, they been focusing on the 20 or so houses around King's big red Victorian, for over a decade now. They tried to get me to help them do it, that's how I found out. They made the claim that because I'm an author I should be able to reason with Stephen King and convince him to hand over his red Victorian house in exchange for his never paying them for being in The Thinner. I told them to get lost and burn in hell. Just because I'm an author and King's film crew filmed a part of Thinner on my land in Old Orchard doesn't mean I know King himself, I never even met him, and them being obsessed with stealing land from people is just out of control. 

The whole Atwater clan does this. They don't see anything wrong with moving in, setting up camp, and driving the rightful land owners off their land at gunpoint.

They act like it's a family tradition to steal land from people, via squatting, harassment, corrosion, death threats, and outright just forging deeds and switching the files, like they did with my land.

And that's the issue we have going on right now. My mother has gone on a psych crazed warpath vendetta of taking my land or else, and or else so far has included her twice now having my father shove things up the tailpipe of my car, both times doing lots of damage t the car when I started the engine and everything inside blew up because of the fuel line blocked. And twice now - each time the same day as attacking my Volvo cutting the wires off the Biddeford apartment as well, in the same driveway where the car was parked.

Both times they admitted to doing it and both times used the justification that I deserved it because I was refusing to sell my land and give my mother the money to buy a house in Kennebunk. She says she has to move to Kennebunk to "get away from the niggars invading Maine, Kennebunk is all white they don't allow no niggars". She's very crude and vulgar and has an extreme hatred for black people and hangs around online with some group that calls itself "the workers of iniquity" which claims to be "a branch of the Ku Klux Klan because the original Ku Klux Klan is not strict enough".

Throughout 2016 people wearing KKK-like white robes and hood showed up in Old Orchard to make threats about my land. Back then I was unaware that my mother was friends with such a group. The robes are NOT KKK robes, the KKK robes are very distinctive, covered with fancy bead work and embroidery, and are not white, but are usually green or red or blue or yellow. It's a Hollywood myth that the KKK wears white, and that's how you can tell REAL KKK from fake wannabe's pretending to be KKK. Real KKK is not wearing white sheets and white pillowcases. The real KKK is a church that is organized similar to Catholic church and all their robes mean specific ranks, also they don't wear hood, they wear mitre hats like the pope does, and have a veil mask over their eyes. So its pretty easy to identify real KKK from fakers in white sheets, and the people showing up in my yard were not real KKK, they were fakers literally wrapped in white bed sheets with pillow cases over their heads. 

Well, various white-power groups show up in the area, that's nothing unusual. Neo-Nazi, Sovereign Citizens, ect. They've always been around Maine, so much so that there are KKK and white power history museums in Maine -one is in Saco. So, I didn't think much of the white hood idiots in my yard. We are Gypsies, white hooded idiots are a part of our non-white life.

Well, here's the thing: we are not white. My mother's mother was not a Gypsy. Eva Viola Little John Dyer Atwater was half Kickapoo Native American and half black. He mother was 100% Native America. Her father 100% black. My mom is 1/4 black, 1/4 Native American, and 1/2 Gypsy of Roumania/Arabian/Middle Eastern descent. There is not one drop of white blood in her. Which is why I was surprised to hear her say: "I gotta move to Kennebunk to get away from the niggars invading Maine, Kennebunk is all white they don't allow no niggars". Yes, Kennebunk is all white, and look at the news, the black school teach who lives in Old Orchard Beach and worked at Kennebunk schools is daily bombarded with swastika painted on her car while she's teaching class. I can't drive my Volvo down main street Kennebunk with out getting pelted with rocks and crowds running off the sidewalks screaming "death to Gypsy scum!" It's dangerous t drive through Kennebunk and not be white -they pull us coloured folks out of cars if we get stopped at a red light. Kennebunk is legendary for being the most white power town in the state of Maine.

One has only to look up the international news reports of the 10 year old school children dragging their black teacher into the streets and almost beating her to death -in 2020. That happened barely a year ago. Kennebunk is the most hostile anti-black town in America and they are proud of it, brag about it, and since the BLM stuff of 2020, Kennebunk has gotten ten times worse. And, she's been seeing all that in the news and wants to live there, and I'm not sure why, because like I said,  my mom is 1/4 black, 1/4 Native American, and 1/2 Gypsy of Roumania/Arabian/Middle Eastern descent and if she tries to buy a house there, and they find out she has black blood, they'll kill her. But she's all hyped up on a white power kick and wants to join Kennebunk's anti-black movement, and... I... I just don't understand it and I'm sure if that's actual why she wants to go thee or not.

There was a court case about the cats (3 different ones because the town hall dropped the case after evidence proved the cats were not mine and my mother had snuck them in my motorhome a few days earlier to try to frame me and then some MB guy crawled out of the woodwork to reopen the case a month later), which, for some reason was in my name, not her name, because the motorhome was mine, even though the cats were hers. Weirdly, half way through the court case the town hall dropped the case and some guy named MB Bureau took over it instead. Thing is, I don't know who this MB guy is. He's not anyone I have ever even met before and he was not at the court so I didn't meet him there either. He came in with lots of wild accusations about me harassing him, even though I had no clue who he was and had never heard of him before. MB's lawyer took photo copies of a conversation on Twitter between me and JB (the guy the FBI arrested for embezzling $30k out of the OOB town hall bank account - $3million in OOB tax money went missing, the rest was never found as far as I know. The Twitter conversation was this JB sending me death threats because he had just been released from prison, and he was claiming I had put him there, even though I didn't know him or that he'd been in prison or that he had stolen money from OOB town hall. According to FBI, JB was a church friend of my mother's and he and town manager Jim Thomas, had been Bishopric counsellors to Mormon Church Bishop DK and the 3 of them and several others from the Saco LDS church had taken over the OOB town hall in around 2010 and embezzled $3million in town taxes. Apparently my Uncle Mervin Bruce Atwater, Richard Merlin Atwater, and aunt B had been involved, been involved and they had used fake social media accounts in my name to contact JB so he thought I knew him, that's why he contacted me on my real account after getting out of prison. I don't know the details I only know the small bit of info the FBI told me to let me know why this JB guy was contacting me.) For some reason, this MB guy, said the Twitter conversation with this Joel guy was about him. 

And apparently according to the FBI, this MB guy owns the old abandoned logging road across the street from me, which is numbered as 139 Portland Ave. I don't know, that road has been abandoned at least since the 1970s, I had no idea any one lived down there, but FBI says this MB guy does. I've been at 146 since 1975, and I've never see any one live there. FBI says there is another driveway on a different side that they probably use. Any ways, for some odd reason this MB guy took over the court case with the cats, only he suddenly said it was about me being transgender (but I'm not transgender, so I don't know why he said I was) His lawyer came into court saying I was a man pretending to be a woman, and here's where it got really weird, the lawyer copied what he SAID was an "About Me" page off of my website (eelkat.com) only what he copied was the about page for the main character of the novel series I write (I'm the author of 138 published novels). The series is about a male Elf who is possessed by a female parasitic alien jellyfish. So it's a female jellyfish wearing the body of a dead male Elf like a coat and passing herself off as him.

Well, this lawyer (Gene Libby) for this MB guy is waving THAT fictional character profile around in court, saying it was my personal about me page, and making the claim that I was a male to female transvestite who believed I was an Elf... and here's the kicker... his whole spiel was trying to convince the judge that I was insane so this MB guy could confiscate my land at 146 Portland Ave! It was the most bizarre thing, and the judge thought so too, because the judge tossed the whole thing out of court because the charges this MB guy had against me were so oddball off the wall nut job ridiculous. But the thing was, again, it was someone making wild claims that I had to hand them over my land, which is what keeps happening with every one of these weird attacks. And always, like both these 2 guys: JB and MB Bureau they are creepy ass strangers who crawl out of the woodwork, people I've never heard of before, making claims to being my friend (JB made the claim he was my best friend and said we talked all the time on FaceBook, but he wasn't on my FB and I'd never heard of him before. While MB Bureau in his court papers made the claim to be one of my uncles -he is not-and)

aunt B and aunt L of Bangor used to be putting stuff online about me and my brothers and JB would get it from aunt B and aunt L and forward it every where. This was in 2010 era, but I did not see the posts, because none of them is a FaceBook friend of me. The FBI however said they saw a lot of the posts, these people made, including several death threats. Seems likely something like that is happening again given the way people keep showing up here at the Biddeford apartment when no one even knew I was here.

I met aunt L about 3 times during my childhood, it's been 30+ years since I last saw her, and I've never spoken with her online or offline not once in my entire life.

aunt B I meet 10 or 12 times during my childhood, and likewise it's been 30+ years since I last saw her, except for 2 times. One in 2013 she showed up at my Biddeford apartment on Water St, with some medical scam idea she had that she wanted me to help her with. She said she was working at Blue Cross/Blue Shield and had found a way to get people's insurance money because a lot of people didn't file claims; she said she was also an EMT, and she could take the records from one job to cross with the other job, to have people's insurance money forwarded to a POBox she owned. I told her I wanted nothing to do with it and to get lost. I don't know how true any of the stuff she said was. I don't know if she worked at those places or could do the scam she was claiming or not.

aunt B showed up again in 2016, at the Gazebo Park (might be named Mechanic's Park?) on the Saco River by the water treatment plant. I was there walking my dog, and my mother showed up with an uncle Peter (now deceased) who was visiting from Utah. They were having a picnic. aunt B and Bruce showed up to trash everything, steal the food, and then leave. They were yelling and screaming the whole time. They acted drunk, except I didn't think they drank. I don't know. Mormons don't drink, not usually.

So I don't know aunt B and aunt L otherwise. I know nothing about them. Have never had contact with them, have never spoken with them online or offline. So, I'm puzzled as to why they were posting things online about me in 2010, or why they were acting like they knew me, when neither of them has ever been a part of my life or know anything about me.

But, they make claims that I say and do various things that I don't say or do. The list of things they've accused me of is massive and kind of crazy and include the claims that I am a prostitute, and that I am a Mafia gang leader ... like I said, it's just wild and also very slanderous and I'm sick of it.

Back in 2019 when my mother got her car, she had it over a month before I even knew she had gotten a car. I found out she had it when she flipped out saying I was online telling people she bought a car. And it turned out is was aunt B and Brucie online telling everyone she got a car, but I had told them,  even thought I had never talked to either of them since 2013 when FBI told me cut off all contact with them

aunt B and Bruce and aunt L all 3 are constantly telling people I said things, that I never said. 

I told you people been showing up talking about Todd and claiming I said things online about him, but I don't even know who he is or what they are talking about. It almost looks like someone is online impersonating me.

A few weeks ago an old man walked up to me, asked if I was EelKat and then asked me why I kept emailing him, and I said I don't email anyone cause I don't use email. He said some days he gets over 300 emails a day from someone claiming to be EelKat 

Last time my car had this problem was same day my father cut the internet on my mom's orders. Suspicious my car has same problem again, same day internet goes off again. It went off while my mother was here

aunt B showed up at water st day after golf club attack, but I never knew how she found out , I never told anyone online about it . Her and Bruce knew about it some how before any one else.  They wanted me to use my injury to help them run a medical scam and they were pissed when I refused to. They started spreading lies about me online because of that. That was Nov 2013

aunt B and Bruce knew about the cats and DAY BEFORE it happened. aunt B posted on my FaceBook wall "the next head nailed to the door will be yours" the day before any heads were nailed to door

I think it's aunt B online saying stuff about me and my mom, because she did it before and because FBI was here asking about her going down to Washington Jan 6 attack, but I didn't yet know the Jan 6 attack had even happened. They said aunt B aunt L and 23 cousins had been down there and they FBI was trying to find them. 

Old Orchard police and Biddeford police and a detective have all shown up asking about aunt B and aunt L and 23 cousins as well. But again I don't know anything because I not had contact with them. But FBI, 2 police departments and a detective are all saying aunt B and aunt L and 23 cousins are making claims about me, in connection to bombs and ISIS .

That's how I found out Paul Martel was in prison. According to FBI agents, Paul Martel built the bombs for the 2013 Boston marathon and the 2013 bomb at South Maine Community College and put the college bomb in my class to make it look like I made the Boston bomb. That's why the FBI showed up to begin with. They were at the college investigating both bombs that happened the same day

FBI said they believed the whole thing was aunt B and Bruce idea, but Paul martial was the one who actually built the bomb and sold it to ISIS, and put the second bomb in my class at college so Paul Martel was the only one they could arrest. FBI is trying to arrest aunt B because they think she's the one behind it. They said the whole thing seems to have started because Scott went to prison for selling drugs at Scarborough downs and for some reason aunt B thinks I'm the one who turned him in, even though I've not seen or heard from Scott since he was 8 years old

FBI thinks the attack on the cats was aunt B retaliating because Paul Martel got arrested. 

When Dickie died also in 2013, after the bomb in Boston but before the golf club attackers aunt B was with him taking charge of his medicine and his official cause of death was an overdose of his medicine, with a not saying unable to determine if accident or suicide. I found out this 2 days after he died when Jacksonville County state police from Florida showed up here in Maine to interview me about where I was the day Dickie died  because when he died aunt B called 911 and told the police I had killed him. 

The FBI thinks the golf club attack was aunt B retaliating because police didn't arrest me for murdering Dickie like she had demanded they do

FBI is full focused on arresting aunt B and Bruce. There's no evidence Bruce is dead. All evidence points to him being in New Zealand. 

FBI believes Bruce faked death because FBI was moving in to close and he didn't want to take the fall for what aunt B is doing 

In 1996 and 1997 aunt B sent out lots of emails to the family claiming the emails had been written by me. I did not have email, internet, or even a computer yet. She got Dickie and David and Joey in raving warpath over it. That's the summer they all showed up talking about Etiole and amphibious aliens and alien abduction. aunt B was the one who started all of that stuff about Etiole, who I never called Etiole. Etiole is not his name, it's always been the word the Atwaters used to describe him (it means man from the stars or alien it's a French word. I don't know French, aunt B is the one who knows French, so I never would have given him a French name) Bruce and Dickie went to a bunch on MUFON forums from 1996 to 2007 spreading lies about me and Etiole calling him a demon and alien and claiming I was an alien abducted. I found out about it in 2007 after they'd already been doing it for 11 years. I don't think aunt B has ever stopped sending out emails about Etiole while pretended to be me, I think she is still doing it.

My father was the one who told the Atwaters about Etiole. My father and Dickie both called him the white monkey. In 1994 and 1996 Bishop Morgan asked me to his office and showed me a bunch of letters, all of them signed "The White Monkey, OST". He said the letters were written to sound like I had written them but he said he'd seen my handwriting before and knew I hadn't written these. He wanted to know if I recognized the handwriting. Some had been written by daddy. Others had been written by Dickie. President Earnshaw later called me in for similar letters he had received and again the white monkey letters were written by mostly daddy and some Dickie all pretending to be me, trying to make it look like I was pretending to be Etiole. In total 16 Bishops and 2 stake presidents had contacted me over the years about white monkey letters

The white monkey letters stopped in 2007 when the psychiatrist at Biddeford hospital diagnosed daddy as having schizophrenia and put him on psychiatric medicine. Since 2007 no one has mentioned Etiole or white monkey, until the week Todd died when people started showing up in Biddeford driveway yelling about Etiole and calling him a suicide demon

The white monkey belonged to Helen pearly and has nothing to do with Etiole at all. In 1978 Helen pearly had a pet white monkey that got lost. Me and cousin Micheal saw it in the woods out back and tried to catch it. We found Etiole the same day. Etiole is a homeless man who lives behind my land in the woods. Me and Micheal took him food. For some reason because we found him while looking for Helen pearly white monkey my father and the Atwaters got it in their heads that Etiole was a demon alien shape shifter who turned into a white monkey to lure me and Micheal into the woods. And that's how their stupid ass alien and demon rumours got started.

I used to let him sleep in the Dodge at night, that's why people started saying the car was haunted. They said Etiole was a demon and the car was demon possessed. My father and Bruce used to stay up all night debating what kind of demon Etiole must be and kept calling me a demon child and a witch and saying I was demon possessed and they called Etiole my familiar and said I summoned him to cast curses and death spells. Bruce believed all that stuff as actual fact and after Bruce left for the night my dad would joke about how gullible Bruce was and how easy it was to convince him demons lived in my car. From there the rumours ended up on the internet through the Heaven's Gate group, that Bruce was a member of at the time. They were a group of around 200 people who went from one UFO forum to the next spreading rumours about me and Etiole. They did that for 11 years before I found out Bruce and his UFO friends were doing it. 

I found out when people started showing up in Old Orchard with beeping equipment claiming they were here the capture Etiole while calling him an amphibious alien and EBE and calling me "EelKat Etiole's friend" I did not use the username EelKat online and none of my books about EelKat (the black bobcat) had ever been published so there was no reason for internet people to know either the name EelKat or Etiole.  I was using the username xavychup online not EelKat, that's why my email address is xavychup not EelKat. EelKat is something Grammy called me back in the 1970s because she said eels and cats were my spirit animals. I never called myself EelKat online or offline so only the Atwaters had ever heard that word before and yet in 2007, I spent the entire summer with endless people showing up in my yard at my tent and all calling me EelKat and all looking for Etiole. 

Because I was living under the tarp I had no access to internet yet so had no clue what was going on online. I went to the library and searched Etiole and EelKat to see what came up and I found tens of thousands of forum posts and interviews and articles all written by Bruce and Dickie, including interviews with Buddy Hopkins, David Mack, and David Icke. All the stuff they said was how they had this demon possessed niece who had been abducted by aliens and has brought an alien back from the mother ship with her and was now protecting him. Every one of the forum posts. Interviews and articles had my full name, my old Orchard address, my email, and my old Orchard phone number listed. That was why so many people were showing up at the tent. In 2006 to 2009. The whole thing of people calling me a Witch and saying about curses and death spells and aliens and demons was started by daddy saying that stuff to Bruce and then Bruce and Dickie spreading it online for 11 years from 1996 to 2007

I started using the name EelKat online BECAUSE my uncles had spent 11 years calling me that on MUFON forums, and when I found out about it and started contacting all the forum admins, I had to tell every one:

"I'm Wendy Christine Allen. I'm the one you all call EelKat, Etiole's friend, the REAL EelKat, friend of the REAL Etiole,  and I'm here to slap every damned one of you with protection from harassment orders. I'm tired of the slander and lies you people are spreading about me of fucking UFO websites. I'm not an alien abductee, I've never claimed to be, until this morning I didn't even know what an alien abductee was. Etiole is not an alien. Etiole is not a demon. He's a local homeless man who has a skin deformity, so he hides in the forest because people are scared of him because of what he looks like, and they beat him up and bully him. The people telling you he's an alien are my uncles, who the ring leaders behind beating him up and bullying him, and I'm quite upset to find out they've been doing it online for quite some time and I'm only just finding out about it now, because earlier this week, I had 30,000 people in my driveway, trying to catch him while screaming that he was an amphibious alien and EBE. You UFO crazies are insane, and I want you people out of my yard. My uncles are lying to you about me and Etiole and you'll idiots for believing them."

I created an EelKat username EVERYWHERE just so I could post that message to every place my uncles had posted that fucking ass alien abduction shit about me and Etiole. THAT, is why you saw me start to use the EelKat username in 2007, when I was always xavychup everywhere before that.

And that is also why I do NOT have an EelKat email.  I've had the xavychup email since 1994, I still have it. And anyone using an eelkat email to contact you isn't me, because I don't have an eelkat email. It always has been and still is xavychup.

Last I knew aunt B and Bruce and aunt L and Bruce's daughters and David's kids and grandchildren were all still continuing to spread demon and alien lies about me and Etiole and were still putting my real name and address on everything. In 2019 they were putting my old Orchard address my high street address and also my water st address even though I was no longer at water street on thousands of forum posts and Facebook posts. In 2019 they were making several hundred posts daily across all there accounts and I found 27 fake EelKat accounts owned just by Bruce himself alone. They were all things like eeelkat, ee1kat, 33lkat, etc. Slightly spell different to look like it was me, yo someone looking quick and not paying attention.  They are likely still doing it and I assume they are doing the same to my mother as well. 

Also I don't even know what mothers address is. How could I put it anywhere? I didn't even know she moved until last summer and apparently she moved a few years ago. No one ever told me she had moved. 

Just like the saying about me saying she got a car. I didn't know about the white car until she came over in it to see Mickey last may and apparently she had a few cars in between. Last car I knew was the black one. I didn't even know she had a new car, let alone more than one.

No one ever told me those things, not her or any one else so it's utterly stupid for her to think I could put her address or cars online. Only people who knew about her address and cars could put them online.

Don't forget she never even told me when Dickie or Bruce died. Both times I found out from the FBI showing up to investigate accusations that I had murdered them

I'm the bed ridden, crippled by multiple attacks. The November 14, 2013 golf club attack, I was almost healed from, but the June 2016 shopping cart attack re opened the 2013 injury and doctors can't operate this time because of the bone shards severing my spinal column. I'm crippled for the rest of my life and no one in this family ever cared. 

Both attacks the FBI wanted to talk to my parents and they refused to talk to him both times. My baby was murdered in the first attack. I was 8 months pregnant and all any of them would do was gibberish about "rosemary baby" and say there was no baby because it was a demon because it was Etiole's. My parents and the Atwaters hate Etiole that much, that they shun the existence of my baby and act like it was never there. That's how much they hate me. That's how cruel and hate filled they are towards me. They spent the last 50 years calling me demon possessed and them saying that is WHY local people attack me and killed my baby and left me crippled for the rest of my life. 

I am in bed 15 or more hours a day, I can barely sit up, I can barely stand up long enough to cook, I have to wear adult diapers since 2013 because half my organs don't work any more because the nerves from those organs to my spine are cut off. My hands shake so bad that it takes me hours to eat a single meal. I can't go back to college, I can't go back to work. But do they care? No. Not my mother. Not my father. Neither of them give a shit. They are both too damned selfish thinking about their own greed to ever once lift a finger to help me. Daddy treats me like a fucking slave and my mother is so far out of my life shunning me because bishop kenning in Saco ward told her too that she hasn't got a clue how bad things are.

I'm not doing a damned thing to any of them. I mind my own business. I write my novels. I don't contact them. I don't talk to them. I don't talk about them.  Someone is clearly pretending to be me online and is slandering me and getting sick of it. My mother flips out about everything thing under the sun and I never have a clue what she's talking about, because I never did or said any of the things she accuses me of. And my father and the Atwaters do the same thing. Some one is out there pretending to be me to get them worked into a frenzy just to sit back and laugh while watching my mother, my father, and the Atwaters be too damned stupid to think. My mother and my father and the Atwaters are all filled with so much pure hatred for me that it takes nothing to convince them to attack me. And whoever it is posting online pretending to be me, knows that and is taking advantage of it. 

I'm too damned sick and crippled to even attempt to do half the crazy shit my mother and my father are accusing me of. And what's worse, my father is right here in the same apartment with me. He sees me every day, he knows how bad off my health is. 

Look how much I'm bleeding all over the house every day. Massive nose bleeds that last for hours to a time, not bleeding from my nose. Just coming out of my nose. I'm so dizzy I can't sit up for weeks to a time. I faint and blackout when I try to get up to go to the bathroom. The pain in my hip and pelvis and knee and spine is so bad I can't even move my fingers to type my novels. 

And look at what they do. Do they really think I'm physically capable of doing the things they accuse me of? They are so damned self centred and paranoid. It's all I can do just to sit up and eat something, how the hell do they think I can do the stuff they accuse me of? My day is spent focusing on trying to get my leg to move so I can make a meal, I don't even have time to think about them. 

It looks more and like my mother and my father are doing this stuff on purpose to try to kill me. My father knows how bad off my heart and lungs are and how difficult it is for me to breath after just a couple of steps. His mother left that land to me in her will in 1983. He stole it, had it put into his name illegally. He's been pissed ever since her death, because she gave everything to me not him. That's been a big problem for him for the last 40 years. He raves about it alongside his ravings about going to Utah taking him off the fire department. He hates my mother because of Utah, blames her every day for losing his fire department pension. He raves about it all night long every single night. He blames me for his mother disinheriting him. He raves about that all the time too. I was only grandchild That's why she left everything to me. Including the land that he stole and put in his name. That land is rightfully mine, his mother gave it to me, and he can't stand it. He's needling my mother about the land just to spite his mother.

He's only trying to get the land away from me because he is mad that the town didn't take it. His mother wanted it to stay in the family. It had been in her family since 1530. Her family was the original settlement family of old Orchard and my land is that spot that the first house in Old Orchard was built.  My father stopped paying taxes to spite his mother and lose the land. He said so many times. He was angry when I bought the land back from the town. He still is. He wants it out of the family because his mother wanted it in the family. That's why he's trying to turn my mother against me over the land. Because he gates his own mother that much.

Keep in mind the 4 door white truck showed up at my workplace daily. Even though I never knew ahead of time what store I would be working at. I was a retail merchandiser and stocked shelves at dozens of stores all over the state. Walmart's every where, CVS, khols, sometimes local, sometimes as far as Freeport and once in Vermont and once in Massachusetts.  I got the notice of which store to be at 15 minutes before I left. So the only person who ever knew where I was going was my father. 

And yet the 4 door white truck would also arrive ahead of me and be waiting. They didn't follow me, they got their first.

And the police caught the truck and the driver in 2017. Kathy BR owned the truck. Her son was the driver.

The smith's are my parents friends. My mother's visiting and home teachers for years.

Kathy was the district emergency dispatch for all the towns in the area, not just old Orchard. That's why none of the 911 calls went through during the attacks by the 4 door white truck. He only attacked while she was on duty. She never forwarded any of the calls so officers never were told to come help me.

That includes the November 14, 2013 golf club attack in South Portland. But the college security officer made a report even though the police never arrived. That big black officer who was head of security was on duty and him and 2 student officers from the police academy made the report.

And FBI found the data from the calls, that never got forwarded to police, that's why Kathy BR lost her job. Because she's the one who tampered with the 911 call files.

Tim and Kathy BR both, not together, individually, arriving separately, both arrived at my tent multiple times throughout the entire year of 2013, saying they were coming to speak to me on behalf of someone who wanted to remain anonymous. So I never knew who sent them. Each time they arrived all they would say was that I had to tear down "the little yellow house" as they called the shop. 

August 8, 2013 the backhoe drove over the shop while I was at work on the food truck down by the pier.

I never saw Tim or Kathy again after that. Not once. And these were people who stopped by to visit my parents daily for over 40 years. Since August 8, 2013 and the backhoe attack on my house, Kathy and Tim have gone to alarming extreme levels to avoid running into me. They just down the street, on one of the private drives, so it's difficult to avoid running into me, and we used to see them a few times a week at local grocery stores. They both, if they see me in a store, literally throw whatever they are carrying across the store and run out of the store like they have a pack of rabid wolves on their heels. It's pretty fascinating thing to see.

My cousin and next door neighbour Tim Murphy was murdered that same week, a few days before the backhoe. His body was left at the cascade Ross road crossroad. 14 days later his head was left at the Portland Ave Ross road crossroad road. His mother put up the big white cross a month later. 

The 4 door white truck showed up a few days later. 

Tim Murphy had an identical truck. The police and FBI initially thought it was his, but his truck was later found.

Tim Murphy owned Etiole's swamp and was the one buying most of the food and supplies for Etiole. 

Tim Murphy was with me and Micheal the day we tried to catch Helen pearly white monkey and found Etiole. 

The FBI believes that Tim Murphy was killed by someone trying to frame Etiole and believes the murder was a retaliation over Tim Murphy refusing to sell the swamp land behind me. 

At the time the FBI was looking at DF Feeney as a suspect but DF Feeney's family was killed in a murder suicide and he too is now seen as someone who was being framed.

The swamp, sandpit, and pond behind me, the Murphys own that, and 3 people in their family have now died horrifically violent deaths because they, like me were protecting Etiole from the people who would kill him because they believed Bruce's demon and alien lies about Etiole. 

Look at what is being done to me. They drove a backhoe over my house and they murdered my baby and they crippled me, all days apart.

Look at what is being done to the Murphys. And they're massacring the Murphy family. Tim's death the same time as the attack on me.

And look at who screams the loudest hate for Etiole. Look WHO calls him a demon.

And look at WHO the FBI's number one suspect in all of this is.

My family laughs and jokes about this whole thing like they think it's a fucking game. People are dying and the FBI is not laughing. 

Look at WHO keeps attacking my car. Look at WHO keeps cutting the wires off the apartment. Vandalism. Harassment. Bullying. Threats. Evil people Evil things. By their fruits yea shall no them, for no good thing springs from dead wood. Those are small petty crimes, but they are still crimes. But it's far beyond petty crimes. The list of people who have been murdered is quite long now. 13 died just at the Boston marathon bombing. I'm crippled for the rest of my life, and so far, I'm the only person who was attacked who lived through an attack. Every one else they've attacked is dead. Most of them beheaded or killed in a bomb. 7 different bombs, including one in my classroom at college in 2013, two in my workplace in 2015 and 2016, the house in Old Orchard in 2006, and my doctor on Saco Ave in 2003 where the doctor the nurses and 21 patients were killed. And the FBI was on site for every one of them, and my family thinks it's funny to laugh and make jokes about all of it. Because that's they do since the day me and Micheal and Tim Murphy found Etiole

Do you realize for all the shit my parents have pulled,  they've never once apologized for anything. And you know why? Because they aren't sorry. They feel no guilt. They feel no shame. They feel no remorse. Why? Because they hate me. They always have. From the time I was old enough to walk both of them reminded me daily that I was supposed to be a boy to replace the baby boy that was born before me. That's why Grammy Helen was the one who was always with me until I was 8. And after that it was Grammy Eva. And then BW. 

Do you know how I found out Santa wasn't real? Grammy Helen died when I was 8. That year for Christmas there were no Christmas presents. There was just my parents arguing over which one of them should have lowered themselves to buy a gift for the mistake that committed the sin of not being born a boy. I remember that Christmas better than any other. Because that's when found out exactly how much my parents hated me and thought I was worthless because I was a girl.

Look at my MRI scans at the damage the foundation nail through my hip did. The mutilated bones that were shattered when I was 6 years old and no one took me to the hospital. I've walked on a broken leg for almost 50 years. 

Look at the jaw surgery I had to have when I was 42 to repair an injury done to me with a brick when I was 14. 

Look at the Gremlin, 1974 orange, obliterated by a sledgehammer. 

Look at what happened when I was awarded phi theta kappa. No one went to the award ceremony. My mother said it was stupid. My father spent the day raving calling me an educated damned fool. BW was at the temple with Rick. And people with golf clubs were waiting at my car.

Do you realize if just one single person had cared enough to be at the phi theta kappa awards my baby might not have been murdered and I might not be crippled now. 

Grammy Helen would beat my dad's ass for the shit he does to me. And Grammy Eva would be ashamed of the stuff my mother does. Neither Helen or Eva would have let them get away with the constant abuse and harassment.

As for what happened to my car March 9, 2022 - KRA vandalized my car and tried to make it look like my brother did it. KRA stuffed the tailpipe full of McDonald's ketchup packets, which is what caused the fuel line to blow up. I could have died. He tried to kill me and make it look like my brother who works at McDonald's did it so my brother would be blamed.

KRA did the same thing in November, because of some guy named Todd who I supposedly convinced to kill himself via may painting a "suicide demon" on my car. There is a picture of Etiole on my car, that is what they are calling "a suicide demon"



UPDATE: February 27, 2022:

Do not underestimate either my willingness or how far I will go to protect my murdered son's grave from being destroyed by the bastards who are the @FBI s number one suspects in having killed him. The ONLY reason that bitch is hell bent on digging up my farm is because she wants to destroy the evidence of my baby having been murdered by golf clubs.

I'm sick of my mother and my mothers shit head Atwater relatives. They won't stop focusing on the cats. They are lost in a delusional refusal to face reality and that is impeding the fbi investigation of the murder of my baby and the crippling of my spine, because all either of them will do is say there was no baby and tell everyone lies about me and I don't like it. My baby is dead and that has nothing to do with the cats and I'm sick of my mother and her filthy Atwater thugs both ignoring what happened at the college 2 years before the cat event happened AND daily arriving to bully me and say it was “RoseMary’s Baby” and not a real baby because it was a demon, because Etiole was a from.

 

Etiole is not a demon, my baby with him was not a demon, you murdered my fucking baby because you are retarded religion crazed jackasses. Get the fuck out of my life and go burn were evil people like you belong!

 

I'm tired of every time I mention the baby that was murdered November 14, 2013 at Southern Maine Community College,  they wave their hand in my face and say, "no you're just upset about the cats". The cats happened May 14, 2015 and those cats were not mine, they were my mother's cats, that she hid in my motorhome because her landlord Nick didn’t know she had 13 cats in her Birch St apartment. And he evicted her a year later when he found out the cats were hers.

That's why SHE is the one making a fuss about them, not me. I'm not the one running around yapping about the cats constantly,  she is. I'm talking about my son. 

 

My baby boy that was murdered by 3 attackers wielding golf clubs in the SMCC parking lot. A blond woman whom the redhaired woman called Claire, a redhaired woman who the blond woman called Kendra, both in their 60sish, and a bald man in his 30ish.

 

I'm not talking about my mother's cats, I'm talking about my child. What the fuck is wrong with these people? 

 

As for my car … did you all forget when and why I painted it? May 12, 2014. Mother's day. The first mother day after my baby was murdered. I painted my Volo on mother's day to divert my mind from killing myself. That's why I painted my car 9 years ago and you all know that, I've said as much hundreds of times.

Ty Mother and the Atwaters are refusing to acknowledge the baby because also refuse to acknowledge Etiole, a local homeless Jewish man who is the baby's father. 

My Mother and the Atwaters are so damned bigoted and religion crazed that all they’ve ever done is call Etiole a demon or an alien, since the first day they ever saw him: September 23, 1978.

It’s been almost 50fucking years that they’ve harassed him because of what he looks like and harassed me because I won’t let them beat him to death. 

They fully 100% believe he is not human and they run around slandering him every chance they can get and they’ve been doing it for 50 fucking years now. 

And THAT is the ONLY reason, they are doing what they are doing right now. 

 

They have NO RIGHT to be on my land. They are fucking trespassing.

Because they are so damned brainwashed by their fucking religions, that they can’t stop believing anyone who is physically deformed MUST be a Demon.

 

And they’ve spent the last 9 years daily hounding me and whooping and cheering joyous celebration over “killing the demon” as they refer to my baby.

 

In you hadn’t watched the local news - January 2022 - there was a massive FBI raid on Main Street and Cutts Street Biddeford, Maine. 8 of the men who have been roaming Southern Maine beating up pregnant women with golf clubs, were arrested and are now in jail where they belong, soon to be moved to federal prison.

And THAT is what has got the Atwaters in a frenzy now, digging up my land in Old Orchard Beach. They are desperately trying to find my dead baby’s unmarked grave, because they know his gold club shattered skull is very damning evidence for them, now that the FBI made a move and started arresting a bunch of their thugs.

 

And those arrested that just happened, they happened because the FBI phone number was painted on my car and locals in Biddeford, came forward with witness testimony of the attacks.

 

What my mother and the Atwaters are doing is cruel and evil and hateful, and I’m sick of it.

They don’t care about or my life, and my baby or his life. As can be seen by the fact of how he died.

The FBI is still trying to ID the bond Claire woman and the redhaired Kendra woman. They caught the bald man with the 4 door white pick up truck, we now know who he is - the son of the Old Orchard Beach police dispatch woman, the woman who would never let any 911 calls begging for help while these attacks were happening, go through.

Don't be surprised if you see the signs - all 144 of them - go back up in my driveway. Because I'm fucking sick of being harassed, and the agreement to keep the signs down, specified that EVERYONE in Old Orchard Beach - ALL RESIDENTS would NEVER HARASS ME again. You people have broken your agreement. I'm painting new signs as we speak.

EVERYONE - includes real estate agents, developers, contractors, construction workers, and any Atwater bitch who thinks they have the right to daily show up at my Biddeford apartment to say: "What are we going to do about Wendy, she can't keep that land, I need a downpayment on a house, she is going to sell her land and give me the money or else!"

Burn in hell you fucking bitch, and take all your fucking Atwater shitheads with you.

There are more then 500 graves on my farm - more than half of them Native American, some of them buried as far back as the 1400s. I WILL NOT let you touch those graves. I take my job as the guardian of these graves VERY SERIOUSLY. And you WILL have an all out war on your hands if you dare touch them.

Now she's threatening to dig up the graves on my land.

My dead baby means a hell of a lot more to me, then her fucking house. She never gave a damn when my baby died, but look at what she did when the cats died. Her priorities are fucked up.

My dead baby means a hell of a lot more to me, then her fucking house. She never gave a damn when my baby was murdered. But look at what she did when the murderers returned and killed the cats!

Look at what she is STILL doing about the fucking cats!

That's all she cares about. Those damned dead cats and her glut lust to have a mansion in KennebunkPort.

Her priorities are fucked up.

She doesn't give a damn about Human life.

And you know what's worse, the FBI thinks she, her sister Barbara, her brother Bruce, and their friends Claire and Kendra, where the people wearing the fake KuKluxKlan robes and hoods on November 14, 2013, when they used golf clubs to beat my baby to death and break my spine leaving me crippled for the rest of my life. 

Her, Barbara, Bruce, Claire, and Kendra - those are the FBI’s #1 suspects in the murder of my baby, November 14, 2013.

And what the hell is with people mixing up me and my mother? 

I'm NOT the one hell bent on a house. I have been willfully homeless for decades I have no desire for the confines of a house. The one running around yapping hysterics about a house IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

I'm NOT the one talking about cats. The one running around yapping hysterics about cats IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

I'm NOT the one talking about Todd, I don't even know who Todd is! I don't know any one named Todd! The one running around yapping hysterics about Todd IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

I'm NOT the one talking about Mark and Dan and Watson, I don't even know who Mark and Dan and Watson are! I don't know anyone named Mark or Watson and the only Dan I know is my cousin and it's clearly not him she's talking about. The one running around yapping hysterics about Mark and Dan and Watson IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

I'm NOT the one putting curses on people. I don't believe in curses. The one running around yapping hysterics about curses and claiming she's casting death spells on people IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

I'm NOT the one talking about demons. I don't believe in demons. The one running around yapping hysterics about demons and calling Etiole a demon IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

I'm NOT the one calling Etiole a demons. I don't believe in demons. Etiole is a local homeless man and Etiole isn't even his name, I don't use his real name online to protect his identity. I'm not the one who calls him Etiole either. Etiole is the name the Atwaters call him. The one running around yapping hysterics about demons and calling Etiole a demon IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

I'm NOT the one talking about aliens or UFOs or alien abduction. I don't believe in aliens or UFOs or alien abduction. The one running around yapping hysterics about aliens or UFOs or alien abduction IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

I'm NOT the one calling Etiole an alien. I don't believe in aliens and besides that, Etiole is a local homeless man. The one running around yapping hysterics and calling Etiole an alien IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

I'm NOT the one talking about Voodoo dolls and Voodoo curses. Voodoo has nothing to do with Voodoo dolls and curses. Voodoo dolls and curses are mumbo-jumbo made up by Hollywood movies and have nothing to do with the Voodoo religion at all. Voodoo is a branch of the Catholic Church. Look it up. Voodoo is a Christian religion. A Voodoo Priest is a type of Catholic Monk. A Voodoo Priestess is a type of Catholic Nun. Voodoo does not cast curses or use voodoo dolls. The one running around yapping hysterics about Voodoo dolls and Voodoo curses IS MY MOTHER NOT ME!

Open your eyes people. Me and my mother don't look that much alike. You should be able to tell the difference between me and her.

Stop showing up in my yard to to attack me because of some fucking shit you argued with my mother about.

If you've got a problem with my mother, take it up with her not me.

Her, Barbara, Bruce, Claire, and Kendra - those are the FBI’s #1 suspects in the murder of my baby, November 14, 2013.

No, I have no updates on Etiole.

He was shot, by a local lunatic.

No, he's not okay.

And I am getting sick of this fucking ass rumour of Etiole being an alien or a demon.

The fact of Etiole being an alien is a stupid urban myth started by some crazy ass locals.

The fact of Etiole being a demon is a stupid urban legend created by some religion crazed nuts.

Etiole is an old man covered with acid burns. His skin is white and face disfigured from acid burns. He's not an alien and he's not a demon. And you people who call him an alien and call him a demon, you're all fucking crazy. 

Etiole is a homeless Jewish man who has no skin because he was tortured in a Nazi concentration camp in France during WW2. He came to Maine in 1953 with a bunch of other refugees, He has post traumatic stress disorder really bad and he's terrified of people. He can't function in normal society, so hides in the forests. He's not an alien, he's not a demon, he's not a cryptid. He's a disfigured old man, now in late 90s. He barely get around. He doesn't you people harassing him like this. Why can't you people leave him alone? Why are you all so damned desperate to believe in aliens or demons that you have to harass a helpless old man? Leave him alone. Why can't you leave him alone? What is wrong with you people?

Read The Amphibious Aliens article, https://www.eelkat.com/AmphibiousAliens.html where way back in 2007, I DEBUNKED every one of you stupid ass alien, cryptic, demon, and haunted car rumours. Amphibious Aliens The Story of Etiole and The World's Most Haunted Car, goes over every event from the 1970s, that started the fucking rumour, and lists off how every alien, demon, and haunted car rumour was proven to be nothing but a hoax started by my mother's brother  Mervin Bruce Atwater. Every single one of those rumours was started by that one man, and were proven to ALL be hoaxes he perpetrated to try to get money out of Dr Larochelle, the man who hit Mervin's younger sister with a car. They tried to convince the old doctor his car had a demon living in it and they scammed the doctor out of $20,000 back in the 1970s. THAT is how and why the demon car rumour got started. I bought the car in 1975. Etiole started living in it in 1978. And that is how me and Etiole got dragged into the fucking ass rumours about a demon car.

The article Amphibious Aliens The Story of Etiole and The World's Most Haunted Car DEBUNKS ALL of the alien, cryptid, demon, and haunted car rumours. Every last one of them.

The car is not haunted and Etiole is not a demon.

You people who believe my car is haunted or think that Etiole is a demon, you are all fucking retarded.

You are slandering me!

You are slandering Etiole!

You are slandering my cars!

I'm sick of it!

Grow up and go get a damned fucking brain!

I'm sick of you people harassing me and Etiole over stupid shit started by brain dead idiots.

If you are having problems with my mother, tell FBI agent Andy Drewer about it not me. Have information, call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322

Have information about the murder of my baby, call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322

Have information about any of the attacks on my family, call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322

Have information about the people who shot Etiole, call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322

If you have information about anything, call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322 and give it to him, not me.

https://www.eelkat.com/AmphibiousAliens.html





UPDATE March 8, 2022

One sign is back up. 

How many more go up, is dependent upon YOU.

From now on, every time one of you Old Orchard Beach, Pine Point, or Biddeford shitheads decides to harass me, I'm going to put up another sign.

If you want no more, then you better make dammed sure you keep your friends and family and neighbors out of my yard and out of my life. I'm not selling my land, and I'll not let you dig up those graves.

Burn in hell.

No means no.

And I'm tired of saying no.

Just like rapist, you refuse to take no for an answer.

No. I'm not selling my land and giving you the money so you can buy a house in Kennebunk.

I've said no to you every single week since August 2021. And your current threats to dig up the graves on my land and move them to your land, is why the signs are going back up.

I'm tired of you bullying me.

I'm tired of your threats.

I'm tired of your gaslighting.

I'm tired of your lies.

You keep saying "After all I've done for you!" What have you done for me? When I was 8 years old you locked me in a racoon trap and left me there for 27 years, only letting me out on Sundays so you could parade me around in the Cape Elizabeth and Saco Ward Mormon churches to pedophile priests who paid you so they could rape me. That's why you never had a job until 5 years ago, because you made plenty selling your pre-teen daughter for sex to dirty old men.

You drove a foundation nail through my hip when I was 6 years old.

From the tie I was 14 until I was 42 years old I was near mute, because you broke my jaw with a brick. I was 42 when I had surgery to rebuild my jaw, that's why I can talk today.

You never allowed me or my bothers to go to school or doctors.

YOU took a sledge hammer to my 1974 AMC Gremlin, my 1976 AMC Gremlin, my 1976 AMC Hornet, my Olds station wagon, and you took a chain saw to my 1964 Dodge 330 the worlds most haunted car, the real Christine. YOU did that.

Since 1978 you have harassed me and me boyfriend, the one you call Etiole, because YOU believe he's a demon because of his skin deformities. You and your sister and your brothers contacted MUFON and told them lies about me and Etiole both. You called him the amphibious alien and claimed he had abducted me. Your alien abduction hoax, almost got him killed in 1997 and again in 2007 when ufo crazies arrived in my yard calling him an EBE and trying to shoot him "for science". An elderly man, a French, Jewish Nazis concentration camp survivor who lives in the forest because his PTSD and fear of people is so bad. A man who is scarred with acid burns from being tortured in WW2 and is neither a demon nor an alien and who deeply traumatized by YOUR endless harassment.

It was YOUR friends who drove a backhoe over my house August 8, 2013 because YOU paid them $600 to do so. Because you thought without a house I would sell my land. But I wasn't the one living in that house. My dad lived there. All you did was put him in a Biddeford apartment. I was already living in the tent since May 9, 2006, and I had the Biddeford apartment since February 13, 2007. 

It was YOUR friends who attacked me with golf clubs at Southern Maine Community College, November 14, 2013, while I was 8 months pregnant with Etiole's baby. That they murdered, on YOUR orders, because as YOU put it "It's RoseMary's Baby" while you gibbered about some horror movie about demon babies.

That was YOUR own grandchild that YOU hired those people to kill.

April 10, 2015, YOU broke into my motorhome, put YOUR 13 cats in it, them then brought YOUR friends to attack my family.

We now know the owner of the 4-door white truck, was YOUR visiting teach, Kathy, the driver who tried to kill me, was her son, and the reason the 911 calls didn't go through during each attack, was because she was the 911 dispatcher and her son, driving her 4door white pick up truck, only attacked me she was on duty. They were YOUR friends from the Saco Ward church, YOUR church, attacking YOUR daughter on YOUR orders.

Since August 2021, you arrive at my apartment 3 times a week, to tell me I need to put curses on people at your workplace, citing that I have to, because you're my mother and I'm demon possessed and I should be putting my demons to good use by helping you kill three people you don't like at work.

I'm sick of you calling me demon possessed.

I'm sick of you demanding curses.

You have a severe mental problem and you need psychiatric help.

I'm sick of you spreading slanderous lies about me telling every one around town I cast curses and death spells, when I've never done either.

November 19, 2021, YOU friend Todd commit suicide and YOU told YOUR friends, that me and Etiole used suicide demons to drive him in front of a train.

YOUR friend Todd, who I did NOT know and had never heard of until 6 of YOUR friends showed up at Rotary Park November 21, 2021 to gun down Etiole while screaming that they were "killing the suicide demon", while we were walking my dog.

Something YOU now brag that YOU tricked YOUR friends into do, because you needed to get Etiole off my land in order to convince me to sell it and give YOU the money for a down payment on a house in Kennebunk.

Christmas Eve 2021, you arrived at MY apartment in Biddeford, STOLE my father's psychiatric medicine, medicine he needs to keep him NOT violent, because he has extremely violent schizophrenia and one hell of a criminal record that requires him to never be in the same room with a gun, let alone never have one. He was committed to a mental ward in 2007, and they ONLY let him out because he came to Biddeford to live with ME in MY apartment, and I was monitoring his meds.

After YOU stole his medicine, you took him with you daily to Kennebunk, to a mansion by Bush's house, to daily tell him, you would give him that house if he forced me to sell my land and give you the money from my land to buy that Kennebunk house.

Tell, me, what of THOSE things, is YOU doing anything FOR me?

No, means, no.

I'm done saying NO to you.

You are nothing but a land rapist.

Just like a rapist you refuse to accept No for an answer.

Every week since August 2021, I've said no to you.

No, I will not sell my land and hand you the money so you can buy a house in Kennebunk.

No, means no.

And no, I'm not happy with the fact that because I won't sell my land and give you the money, you are now threatening to dig up the graves on my land and move them to your land.

No, I'm not happy with you saying "You don't need the land, you don't use it, I need a house in Kennebunk, you ought to want to sell your land and give me the money!"

Yes, I do use my land.

Yes, I did see the car YOU dumped behind my motorhome. You have till the end of summer to get it off my land or the police are taking it.

What I do with my land is none of your damned business.

And for your information, my land is where I write my novels. I sit on the hill, and I write every day, all summer long. The only reason I didn't in 2021 is because I had Covid for 3 months.

No, telling me that my grandmother's evil spirit is haunting my land. also does not inspire me to want to sell it.

YOU are an evil, hate fill, mean, cruel, sadistic, child abusing, vindictive sociopath.

Get psychiatric help.

You need it.

What you are doing is wrong and you know it. You won't be so upset about what is painted on my car, if you didn't know it.

You can't hide from the truth forever. 

You can't hide your sins, your crimes, your cruelties forever.

Good things will never come to you, until you stop doing evil things to those around you.


Don't forget, my camera runs 24/7 and it's a simple matter of my uploading the video footage of you doing and saying things thing. Plus a lot of it, you said and did while I was livestreaming so people online have already seen and heard you say and do these things.

Yes, I even have video footage of the 4 bicycle brats who chased the homeless man into the train November 2021.

EVERYTHING, I have said here I have video footage of. That is WHY the FBI have been able to arrest so many people these past few months, in Biddeford.

Cutting the wires off our house November 2021 - you did on a livestream. People saw you do it WHILE you were doing it. 

All 2 of the FedEx workers you demanded death curses for - you did on a livestream.

Stealing my dad's meds - you did on a livestream.

Saying "What are we going to do about Wendy, she can't keep that land, I need a house" - you did on a livestream.

Threatening to dig up the graves on my land - you did on a livestream.

All that n-word stuff you said about the black men at your workplace - you did on a livestream.

People been seeing and hearing you live. They've already seen and heard a lot.

How do you plan to explain away all the hundreds of hours of video footage I have of you breaking into my bedroom during a live stream to threaten me, my family, my land?












To the people who asked about weird emails that you claim you got from someone claiming to be me, here are a few things to consider:

#1: I DO NOT use email and I NEVER have. if you get a letter from me it is going to be written in ink on paper, and in a stamped envelope the mail truck delivered to your mailbox at the end of your driveway. Since 1997 my aunt Barbara has been sending emails out to people CLAIMING they were from me, so in all likelihood whatever you got was actually from her. Her brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater did the same thing throughout the early 2000s. And 57 of their children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren have done it at well. No, I’m not special. They do this to THOUSANDS of people. They run a medical scam and pretend to be LOTS of big name famous authors, hoping you’ll click whatever link they put in the email, because the link is going to open a .exe phishing program to steal your credit card data and medical records. The FBI is currently investigating their medical fraud, email fraud, scam operation, so if you ARE getting emails claiming to be from me, PLEASE print up the email ad take it to the FBI office on Middle Street in Portland, Maine. FBI Agent Andy Drewer is in charge of not only the investigation of the 2015 murder of my family, but he is also in charge of the email impersonation fraud, and the stalker doing the email fraud.

#2: As you have stated, the topic of the emails is Etiole... do know that I have NEVER talked about Etiole, with ANYONE, online or offline. Unlike my mother, and her sister, my aunt Barbara and her brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater, I happen to respect people’s privacy. As I have said before: Etiole is a Jewish, French, Nazi concentration camp refugee who came to Maine in 1953 with a boatload of about 300 other concentration camp survivors. He is covered with acid burns, so his skin looks ghastly white and horrifically disfigured, which is why he lives in the swamps around the Saco River. he is now in his 90s and is still as homeless as he was in the 1950s. He has severe posttraumatic stress disorder, can not speak/is mute, does not have the mental capacity to function in normal society on any level what so ever, and me and a few others have been taking care of him, giving him food and clothing and supplies and medical attention since 1978. There is nothing else you need to know. You do not need to know where he is or how to find him. If you want to see him, go to y livestream/video archive and watch the VOD where I visited him on livestream so you could see what he looked liked and how crippling his metal condition really is.

#3: I feel I shouldn’t have to say this, but apparently I do NEED to say this: Etiole is NOT an alien, nor is he a demon. The article Amphibious Aliens is free to read online. It goes over all the details of both the alien rumours and the demon rumours and debunks them all, while proving all the proof, including medical records and documentation of the people behind the rumour.

#4: The ONLY person who ever claimed I was abducted by aliens was my uncle Mervin Bruce Atwater, who was the leader of the Mane division of Heaven’s Gate for over 40 years. Heaven’s Gate if you do not know, was the UFO suicide cult who murdered 39 people with poisoned Kool-Aid in California in 1997, because Comet HaleBop flew over that night.

#5: I found out about my so-called alien abduction in 2007, when a MUFON tour group showed up in my yard asking to interview me. They carried with them more than a dozen books by various UFO/alien experts and over 100 newspaper articles, all featuring interviews with my aunt Barbara and her brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater, interviews all from the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s, all of them telling of how I was supposedly a demon possessed child, whose best friend was an alien named Etiole. It was 2007, and it was the first time I had ever heard the term “alien abduction” I didn’t even know what it was. The MUFON group - a group of 30,000 people - standing in my driveway 2007 all wanted to interview me as they pointed out NONE of the 30+ years of several hundred interviews with my aunts and uncles, not ONE of the interviews was WITH ME. This was the source of the April 2007 article titled Amphibious Aliens, where I shocked the MUFON world with the revelation that I was NOT an alien abductee, nor had I ever claimed to be one. It also infuriated me to find out that my aunt Barbara and her brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater had been running around telling people about Etiole, as I had never told ANYONE - NOT EVEN THEM - about Etiole. It turns out my aunt Barbara and her brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater go their alien and demon stories about Etiole from my mother and THIS is WHY I disowned my mother, shun her, and have had nothing to do with her, or her sister my aunt Barbara and her brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater, since 2007. The slanderous alien and demon, gossip, rumours, and lies my mother and her sister my aunt Barbara and her brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater spread about me and Etiole are deplorable and I HATE my mother and her sister my aunt Barbara and her brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater, and I hope they burn in hell for the alien and demon shit they pulled on me and my homeless boyfriend.

#6: That same Amphibious Aliens article ALSO debunks the stupid ass haunted car rumours. My 1964 Dodge 330 is NOT haunted and we fucking proved that. And AGAIN, the haunted car rumour, is sourced to my aunt Barbara and her brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater. That car ran over my aunt Barbara when she was 2 years old. At the time, the car belonged to Dr. Larochelle of Ocean Ave Old Orchard Beach, Maine. My than 2-year-old aunt Barbara almost died and her older brothers Richard Merlin Atwater and Mervin Bruce Atwater and David Atwater, came up with a haunted car/demon possession hoax to scam that elderly doctor out of $20,000, which my grandmother Eva Viola Atwater spent on a 3 year trip to Hawaii in 1973. The Atwaters scammed and terrorized the doctor so badly, that he sold the car to me in 1975 for $5 because he was convinced it was attacking people. The car became famous in 1983 when my then neighbour Stephen King used the demon possession story of my car as the basis for his book Christine. He named the car Christine because Christine is my real name and I owned the actual car. Stephen King returned 10 years later in 1994 to film the Thinner movie in my yard, because I’m the real world “Gypsy Witch” (priestess) that he based his fictional Gypsy Witch in Thinner off of. The movies Christine and Thinner are what in turn made ME famous, and started locals accusing me of being a witch with a demon car.

And as for the fucking Thinner movie - those bastards were trespassers. They just showed up unannounced, barged in, set up filming, without permits or licenses or contracts or permission or even telling us ahead of time that they were coming. No one in Stephen King’s crew acted legally, we are not in that movie willingly, they were not on our farm legally, no one ever received a penny for any of it, and to make things worse, Steven King had no right or permission to go o late night television and tell people my home address and tel his fucking fans to “go visit the Thinner Gypsies of Saco Maine”. They had no right to be on my farm, they had no right to be filming my family. They just dropped in one day. We had no clue who they were or why they were there and it took us fucking 5 hours to chase those trespassing bastards and their film crew off our farm.

In short: I don’t use email, so you NEVER got an email from me. I’m not a witch. My car isn’t haunted. Etiole is not a demon. Etiole is also not an alien. And I was never abducted by aliens.

Also, I don’t know what you are talking about with the house stuff. I’m NOT trying to build a house, I’ve NEVER tried to build a house, I have never applied for a house permit, I’ve never been denied for a house permit because I’ve never even tried to get one. You clearly have me mixed up with someone else.

I’m at 146 Portland Ave. I have 2 neighbours who are building a house: 144 Portland Ave next door to me and 139 Portland Ave across the street from me. I think you mean one of them. My neighbour at 144, has been trying to build a house for 17 years and the town hall has been giving them the runaround. I think SHE at 144 Portland Ave is the one you mean, not me at 146. You seem to have us mixed up somehow.

SHE at 144 is the one putting in a septic system, not me at 146. I’m the one with the pink motorhome and the 35-year-old black Volvo. she’s the one with the brand new big black car and the log cabin house.

You have seriously mixed the two of us up big time.

Understandable considering it was HER family at 144 fighting with the Cyr Clan over a septic tank in 2014, and the Cyr Clan hired a hitman who accidentally murdered MY children, ten of them and nailed their heads to my motorhome door, at 146 than the white-haired man with the green pick-up truck has spent the last 7 years TELLING YOU via running up the street knocking on doors, tell you that it was EelKat trying to build a house, ONLY telling you that to try to cover his ass for mixing up my children at 146 when it was my neighbours children at 144 that was the ACTUAL target.

This is not speculation, the FBI have 100% positive proof that she and her children, not me and my children were the intended target because her family was having a fight with some Connecticut based heroin drug gang that calls itself the Cyr Clan over the septic tank. The hit men the Cyr Clan hire got the wrong house when they murdered my family. And now the Cyr Clan’s trying to convince you that I was the one building a house. I have no interest in a house. Why would I? I’m a Gypsy, I’ve never lived in a house. I’ve always lived in cars and tents my whole life. I have no interest in a house on any level whatsoever. I don’t NEED one, I never have. And you local people should know that. When my health is bad, I rent apartments in Biddeford. I’ve done this for 50 years now. You know that. You ALL know that. I’ve owned 146 Portland Ave since 1975. You people know me. Why are you pretending you don’t?

I’m the feral child who lived in a cage in a woodshed from the time I was 8 until I was 31. Did you all forget that? Etiole was the local homeless man who used to break into the woodshed and break the lock off the cage and take me out into the swamp to hide me from my bastard uncles. Did you forget that too? The ONLY reason any of you spread your fucking rumours and lies about me and Etiole, calling me a witch and Etiole a demon or alien, and spreading lies about me building houses, is because my Uncle Bruce and his Heaven’s Gate friends, told you those lies.

Did you forget what Heaven’s Gate is, what they fucking did? They are an UFO Alien Cult, who murdered 39 people with poisoned koolaid, because they comet Hale Bop was God’s fucking mother ship. They see fucking aliens EVERYWHERE. In everything. And THEY are the ones who started the stupid ass rumour of Etiole being an alien.

Look at the SOURCE of the alien abduction rumour. My Uncle Mervin Bruce Atwater. One of George Applewhite’s thugs. George Applewhite, a follower of Jim Jones, that’s WHY they killed everyone with kool-aid, because they were fans of Jim Jones, and they wanted to jump onboard God’s mothership like Jonestown did! Did you forget that? THAT fucking lunatic, a fan of Jim Jones, who worked for George Applewhite, called Etiole an alien, because Bruce CALLED EVERYONE aliens.

Bruce locked me in a cage, and Etiole broke me out of it and hide me in the swamps, and THAT is what Bruce called an alien abduction. But Etiole is no alien. He’s just a local homeless man. Etiole’s not even his name. I don’t tell anyone his name to protect him from you fucking jackasses who are too stupid to believe he’s just a normal man. My uncle Buce is a fucking lunatic who spends 24 hours a day gibbering madness and nonsense about aliens and demons.

As for the garbage that keeps being dumped on my land… you have all SEEN the big green dump truck with the black and silver striped nose, that illegally trespasses on my land and dumps that fucking garbage.

Open your eyes and look around. You can SEE the truth. The house being built is at 144 Portland Ave NOT 146. You can SEE that, now that the house is up.

Like I’ve been saying right along, it is NOT me building a house. It NEVER has been. I don’t know why you let that idiot try to gaslight you with lies about me building a house, when you can SEE the house is NOT going up on MY land. It’s going up on my NEIGHBOUR’S land.

I know you people are NOT THAT stupid. The white-haired man with the green pickup truck is LYING to you, and you can SEE that for yourselves, just by looking at WHICH property the house is being built on.

Look around... does it LOOK like there is a house being built at 146 Portland Ave where the pink motorhome is? Use your brain and open your eyes. See the truth. The truth will set you free.

Now look next door to 144, you CAN SEE that THEY NOT ME are the one building a house, now that it’s almost finished.

I’d say the white-haired man in the green pickup truck has a lot of explaining to do, like explaining WHY h’s hell bent on trying to convince the town I’m the one putting up a house, when I’ve never even applied for a building permit. Building permits are public record. Go look at the town hall for yourself.

Also, please explain to me HOW the white-haired man with the green pick truck has such very detailed info about the murder of my family, when the records are sealed, not public access, and about 90% of the details were withheld from the public and are know ONLY to myself, the murderer, the police, and FBI? There is ZERO public access to the stuff h is saying happened on April 10, 2015... you know that, right? So HOW did he get the info he has? Explain THAT.

please report any future such emails you receive to FBI agent Andy Drewer 207-774-9322

>>>I’m just more cowardly than they are and I’m afraid of the truth and criticism. In your opinion, what makes someone mean?

When I think of mean, I think of my uncles. 3 in particular. My mother had 12 older brothers and 3 of them all claimed to be “king” (we are Gypsies, Gypsy Kings are a thing). And they fought over it badly. They ended up jointly ruling over the clan, each competing with each other to out-king the other, each doing progressively meaner things to the clan members, especially the female children.

Things they did, just to me, included:

When I was 4 Uncle Bruce stabbed me with a foundation nail - an iron rod over 2 feet long - he drove into my hip, through my pelvis and out my other thigh. I have been crippled and walked with a cane since I was a toddler, because of it. His reason? I was unable to memorize the entirety of chapter 1 of the book of Genesis.

When I was 8 years old, same uncle locked me in a cage that was made for trapping raccoons. He gave me 1 salted herring fish to eat once every 12 days. He let me out only on Sundays to go to church. I lived in that cage for 27 years, until the Heaven’s Gate FBI raid shut down Heaven’s Gate in 1997, after they killed 39 people with Kool-aid. Yes, I am THAT EelKat, the child who lived in a cage, the feral child you see pictures of in almost every college Psychology book. I am the child who survived Heaven’s Gate because I was locked in a cage in a woodshed when they drank their kool aid under the shadow of comet HaleBop. I was 31 years old when the FBI raid rescued me from that cage.

When I was 14 years old, because I was unable to recite from memory the entire book, all chapters of Ecclesiastes, that same uncle beat me in the face with a cinder block brick, breaking my jaw, and cause me to be “mute” until had surgery to fix my jaw when I was 42 years old. From the time I was 14 until 42, I was unable to speak due to the damage of my jaw.

In those 27 years from age 8 to age 31, I was let out of the cage every Sunday to be taken to church and sold or $12k to the priests, who raped me repeatedly, weekly, for 27 years.

While my uncle helped Applewhite to run Heaven’s Gate, he fled the night of Hale Bop. He did not kill himself with everyone else.

Social workers took me after the FBI raid. It took them years to teach me how to not be terrified by the sight of Humans. They say I suffer from having no outward sign of emotions, and that it was caused by my never having experienced a single good event in my early life.

At the time of the FBI raid at 144, 146, and 148 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, I was one of more than 120 girls the FBI rescued out of cages. All of whom had been raped hundreds of times by priests from Cape Elizabeth, Saco, and Sanford wards of the LDS/Mormon church. Including 16 bishops, an OOB town manager, and several OOB motel owners, all of whom were in the habit of paying $12k to rape girls under the age of 10 years old.

The man with the green truck, who likes to spread rumours about me and Etiole and my house, was one of Bruce’s top customers. He had a thing for numbers and raped 7-year-olds, 14-year-olds, and 21-year-olds because he was obsessed with doing everything in 7s.

After years of social workers teaching me how to live with normal, not abusive Humans. I was 37 when I got my GED and while I was at the high school doing that, those uncles built a grease fryer bomb burned my house down to punish me for getting a GED.

2 years later, while I was in college taking classes to learn grammar and writing, three of them, that same uncle and 2 women I had never seen before, arrived at the college armed with golf clubs and attacked me when I was coming out of the college. I was 8 months pregnant at the time. They killed my baby, broke my spine, broke my hip, broke my pelvis, broke my knees. I was paralyzed for 5 months. It took me 18 months to get out of the wheelchair and relearn to walk, and to this day I am still crippled.

That’s the price I paid to learn how to read and write, in a culture that believes it is okay to execute women who commit the sin of learning how to write.

August 8, 2013, that same uncle paid a local construction worker $600 to drive a backhoe over my house.

April 10, 2015, that same uncle and a group of 74 members of the new reorganized Heaven’s Gate, attacked my farm. 14 men held me down with guns to my head, while the others used hand band saws to kill and behead 10 of my 12 children and then nailed their heads to my door.

And it’s very easy to Google the news reports and photos of all of it.

That is what I think of when I hear the word “mean”. My uncle Bruce was a very mean person.

My uncle Bruce Mervin Atwater is a monster. And he calls EVERYONE an alien abductee or a demon. Did you fucking forget that?

No, I have no updates on Etiole.

He was shot by a local lunatic.

No, he’s not okay.

And I am getting sick of this fucking ass rumour of Etiole being an alien or a demon.

The fact of Etiole being an alien is a stupid urban myth started by some crazy ass locals.

The fact of Etiole being a demon is a stupid urban legend created by some religion crazed nuts.

Etiole is an old man covered with acid burns. His skin is white and face disfigured from acid burns. He’s not an alien, and he’s not a demon. And you people who call him an alien and call him a demon, you’re all fucking crazy.

Etiole is a homeless Jewish man who has no skin because they tortured him in a Nazi concentration camp in France during WW2. He came to Maine in 1953 with a bunch of other refugees. He has posttraumatic stress disorder really bad and he’s terrified of people. He can’t function in normal society, so hides in the forests. He’s not an alien, he’s not a demon, he’s not a cryptid. He’s a disfigured old man, now in late 90s. He barely get around. He doesn’t you people harassing him like this. Why can’t you people leave him alone? Why are you all so damned desperate to believe in aliens or demons that you have to harass a helpless old man? Leave him alone. Why can’t you leave him alone? What is wrong with you people?

Read The Amphibious Aliens article, where back in 2007, I DEBUNKED every one of you stupid ass alien, cryptic, demon, and haunted car rumours. Amphibious Aliens The Story of Etiole and The World’s Most Haunted Car, goes over every even from the 1970s, that started the fucking rumour, and lists off how every alien, demon, and haunted car rumour was proven to be nothing but a hoax started by Mervin Bruce Atwater. Every single one of those rumours was started by that one man, and were proven to ALL be hoaxes he perpetrated to try to get money out of Dr Larochelle, the man who hit Mervin’s younger sister with a car. They tried to convince the old doctor his car had a demon living in it and they scammed the doctor out of $20,000 back in the 1970s. THAT is how and why the demon car rumour got started. I bought the car in 1975. Etiole started living in it in 1978. And that is how me and Etiole got dragged into the fucking ass rumours about a demon car.

The article Amphibious Aliens The Story of Etiole and The World’s Most Haunted Car DEBUNKS ALL of the alien, cryptid, demon, and haunted car rumours. Every last one of them.

The car is not haunted and Etiole is not a demon.

You people who believe my car is haunted or think that Etiole is a demon, you are all fucking retarded.

You are slandering me!

You are slandering Etiole!

You are slandering my cars!

I’m sick of it!

Grow up and go get a damned fucking brain!

I’m sick of you people harassing me and Etiole over stupid shit started by brain dead idiots.

And the same goes for the so-called World’s Most Haunted Car. That rumour was started by the same person. That car was proved years ago, to have a mechanical issue that caused it to start and drive ahead until it hit something. No one ever thought to look at the starter. I’m the 3rd owner of the car. I changed the malfunctioning starter and a so called ‘haunted” stuff the car did, went away. It was a problem with the starter, only that and nothing more.

And these people in Biddeford right now, getting you all worked up - if you hadn’t noticed they ARE Mervin Bruce Atwater’s family.

So it’s STILL the same one fucking person running around getting things stirred up. The Atwaters. My fucking uncles. Like usual.

Yesterday at Rotary Park, Biddeford, Maine, a group of people armed with rifles, went down the track team trail behind the soccer field and started shooting... scared the crap out of the 50 or so children and their 100+ parents, got the 30+ dogs in the dog park howling... the sky filled with thousands of Canadian geese, and the park goers assumed the group was hunting geese and started commenting on the fact that hunting was not allowed in Rotary Park.

A few minutes later, a grey/white haired, bearded man, who looks a lot like Kenny Rogers, but not as fat, with a black dog of a German Shepard-Lab mix look, and a woman with pageboy greyish-blond hair, both about late 60s, marched up to me in the park, bragged they had killed Etiole, stating that he has caused their son whom they called “Todd” to jump in front of a train 3 days earlier.

You know what, I knew that homeless man and HE never mentioned it.

You people are just looking for someone to blame, and think because I’m not white, I wear a hijab, and I have a mural painting on my car, you think you are justified on pointing blame at me for something I had no part in.

That homeless man was obsessed with the fact that his dog and son had been taken away from him.

It’s NOT the evil eye as they called it. It’s The eye of The Grigori Archangels aka The Watchers, from the Apocrypha in the Bible. It’s the blue wings of the Seraphim Archangels aka The Watchers. The Watchers are my Guardian angels. I paint them on everything, I sew it on tapestries, it’s on my car, my motorhome, I embroider it on pillows and clothes, paint it on mirrors, paint canvases art for art galleries with it. It’s the blue eyes wings of the archangels as described in the Bible. I’m not sure why they were calling it the Evil Eye.

It’s the Eye of God, the hamsa. A Jewish protection symbol. Etiole’s Jewish, he draws it on everything, so that’s why I do as well.

I’m sick of you jackasses spreading you wild ass rumours about me.

You’re nothing but a bunch of trouble making busy bodies who can’t mind your own fucking business.

I’m not bothering a single damned one of you, so why the fuck are you bothering me?

Why can’t you stupid ass people leave me alone?

There is no reason for a damned one of you to be in my yard.

There is no reason for a damned one of you to be chasing down Etiole.

There is no reason for a damned one of you to be having psychotic meltdowns over my car!

What is wrong with you people?

Fucking brain dead herd mentality that’s all this is.

One of you ran around screaming like a lunatic and rest of you all decided to join in.

But I also ask... WHY would you be scared of me or Etiole? It makes me ask who has been feeding you lies about me? Who has been feeding you lies about Etiole?

I am a crippled elderly woman. I can barely stand up. I’ve been paralyzed and bedridden since the golf club attack November 14, 2013. I’m only just now in 2021 just starting to walk again, and I can barely do that. I have no grip strength so I struggle to even hold me cane. The golf clubs damaged my spine, my nerves, most of my organs don’t function because of the nerve damage to my spine. I struggle to even breath, just sitting up in bed is enough to collapse my lungs. I have no bladder or bowel movement control, I have to wear diapers. What exactly is it you think I can even do?

And Etiole? The old hermit Nazi concentration camp survivor? He’s over 100 years old now, he hasn’t been able to walk, or sit up, or eat on his own, in almost 20 years. He’s dying. What exactly are you expecting him to do?

Etiole is NOT an alien.

Etiole is not a demon.

I am not a witch.

None of my cars are haunted.

I’ve been saying it for years. Why won’t you listen to me?

You are slandering me!

You are slandering Etiole!

You are slandering my cars!

I’m sick of it!

Grow up and go get a damned fucking brain!

I’m sick of you calling Etiole a demon.

I’m sick of you calling Etiole an alien.

I’m sick of you calling me a witch.

I’m sick of you saying one car after another is haunted.

This whole thing boils down to your fucking white privilege. You know that right?

Your white ass can’t stand the fact that we non-white Gypsies live here, so you have to make up stupid ass supernatural spooky shit about us.

You don’t like that I wear the traditional dress of my people instead of dressing like an American, so you feel justified in calling me a witch and making up spook occult lies about me.

I wear hijab and veils and caftan and silk and it bother’s you that I’m not scum diving in trashy t shirts and jeans like the rest of you.

I paint my cars, same as we painted our wagons and vardos for centuries, and it bothers you because it looks different.

Etiole is a Jew, and your anti-Semite white privilege kicks in to hate him for being born Jewish.

Etiole has scars, so you’re scared of him

I’m different.

Etiole’s different.

My cars are different.

And when you get right down to it, that’s ALL any of this is about.

Me, Etiole, and my cars don’t fit in with your fucking ass white privileged ideas of “normal” and that makes you uncomfortable and you try to make the uncomfortable go away by dehumanizing us with your stupid ass rumours.

There are no witches.

There are no aliens.

There are no demons.

There are just a bunch of whinny ass white privileged brats running around making trouble for anyone who’s not white enough for them.

Grow the fuck up!

Creating Your Magic System:
What rules of magic should you use in your world's magic system and why?



I write a series that delves heavily into magic. I'll tell you how I've dealt with these things and you can see if that gives you any ideas for what to do in your own story.

Okay, first a quick backstory of the world I write, so you have a point of reference, for understanding why and how these the laws got put in place: The main character is a wizard. He and two other wizards are travelling together on the run from a group they refer to as "The Guild". They are very old, non-Humans (an Elf, a Faerie, and a Demon) and were once (centuries ago, when they were much younger - the oldest of them is the Fae who is more than 3,000 years old) seen as the most powerful, most feared wizards to ever walk the face of the Earth.

Each of these 3 wizards has near-god-like powers and can manipulate anything or anyone to their will. Among other things, they can control the weather, cast illusions, grant wishes, raise the dead, and cause entire nations to drop dead simply by looking at them and saying: "DIE!"

Because of his god-like abilities, many religions and cults have risen up to worship Quaraun, believing him to be in fact a god walking among Humans.

The most powerful of these insanely overpowered wizards can call down lightening, channel it through his body, and cast lightening bolts from his fingers, a feat that kills most wizards who attempt it, but leaves him unharmed.

Quaraun is also one of the only wizards to ever successfully create a Lich, and has in his comand 13 Lich Lords and a DracoLich.

Because he is an Elf and can talk to nature, Quaraun possesses the ability to cause forests to rise up and march into battlefields, letting giant pine trees crush his enemies under their roots by walking over them, once calling up a flock of hummingbirds to pick out the eyes of his attackers, and rather then an army of zombies, this Necromancer has an army of roses - dead flowers resurrected as bloodthirsty, thorny harbingers of death. Quaraun is basically a tree hugging, animal rights activist hippie turned super villain.

Summer 1854, Somewhere in the Uncharted Regions of the Amazon Rainforest

Remington B. Madison stopped to catch his breath. He looked behind him. There was no time to stop, he must keep going, he must get out of this God forsaken place. They were coming. He could hear them coming. They were getting closer, closer. They'd be upon him at any moment. He had to think. He had to get out of here. He had to get back to the states. Must think fast. Why had he sent the artifacts to the museum already? He should have waited. He should have found out more about the natives first.

Their traditions.

Their gods.

The birds.

Oh god, the birds!

He should have considered the sacredness of the birds.

It had only been a bird, a simple black bird, nothing to be missed, not worth this fuss. He hadn’t realized, he hadn’t known, it was just a mistake, his men were hungry. It was just one bird. Why hadn’t he listened more closely to the words of the priestess?

Original cover art from the 2007 edition

The birds!

He stopped thinking and started listening. A strange whirring sound was coming from the forest behind him. The sound of hundreds of tiny wings beating at lightening speeds.

They were coming.

They were coming for him.

Thousands of tiny hummingbirds, with gleaming ruby wings, and shining golden beaks. He started running. Running faster and faster, farther and farther. His mind was racing. Must get away. Must escape.

The birds.

The maddening whir of their thousand beating wings.

They had killed his porters.

They had killed the rest of the dig team.

They had killed the local native guides.

There was no one left.

Just him.

He was the only one left, he had to get out of this place alive. He must escape the wrath of Huitzilopochtli. He must get back home. He had to tell the world what he had found. He must warn them. Warn the world. No one must ever enter these forests again.

~From "The Ruby Hummingbird" 

Quaraun had made a new wand.

A strange wand.

A wand with powers no Elf had ever seen before.

Rumours of what the wand was for, galloped through the town.

As Quaraun slowly drifted through the town, he walked pass houses touching them with his wand, and instantly window boxes heavy laden with pink geraniums filled every window.

No one dared take the flowers down, they feared what the mad Elf would do if they did.

Rumours spread through the town about the few Elves who did take the flowers down.

The Elves had vanished, eaten by the undead pink flowers, so the rumours said.

Pink creeping phlox crept over the sidewalks behind Quaraun as he walked.

Their vines and tendrils lashing out at other Elves tripping them and pulling them down, the hungry pink flowers devouring them.

The fields around the village were suddenly filled with pink snap dragons, but instead of flowers actual tiny pink dragons grew from the steams.

The Elves now found themselves trapped in their village, unable to escape, eaten by hoards of tiny pink snapping dragons dare they set for out of their town.

Quaraun's wand was filling the village with beautiful pink flowers.

Beautiful pink flowers that eat any Elf that got near them.

~From "BoomFuzzy" 

The Elf suddenly stood up, his long thin ears perked up high over his head, listening for danger.

"What ya hearing?" Unicorn asked.

"People. A wagon's coming."

Unicorn sniffed the air. "Humans. I can smell em."

"There's a turtle in the road."

"Is there?"

"They'll kill it."

Quaraun jumped up and started running down the glade back to the road.

"Hey! Where is ya off to?"

"Got to move the turtle out of the way of the wagons," Quaraun called back.

"Ya crazy Elf. Get back here!"

Unicorn stood up and followed the Elf. He wasn't in any hurry, so by the time he reached the road, Quaraun was standing in the middle of the road, yelling at the band of Humans and refusing to let them pass until the giant snapping turtle had finished crossing the road.

"Thought ya was gonna move the turtle?" Unicorn asked.

"It's too heavy, I can't lift it and it's a snapping turtle. Pick it up wrong it'll bite your hands off."

"That a damn big turtle," Unicorn said, looking at the giant snapper. "Would take five people to lift her."

Quaraun went back to arguing with the Humans while Unicorn watched the turtle slowly make it's way across the dirt road, towards the swampy Witch Pond. The turtle was so big that it wasn't possible for the wagons to fit by without hitting it. 

"I does no remember an island in the pond earlier," Unicorn said. But no one was listening.

The Humans with the wagons were in a hurry to get to where ever they were going before nightfall and did not want to wait for the turtle and suggested the turtle would make a good stew for tonight's super, which in turn sent the vegetarian Elf into a fit of hysterics.

"Quaraun..." Unicorn tried to talk to the Elf.

Quaraun now had his wand pulled out and was threatening to kill the Humans if they killed the turtle.

"Quaraun?"

"Not now."

"Now is good time."

"I'm busy!"

"Un I is hallucinating wid ya now."

"What?"

"Uhm," Unicorn said, trying to get Quaraun's attention. "The island is moving."

"Islands don't move," Quaraun sputtered, not paying attention to Unicorn as he glared at the closest Human and pointed his wand in their face.

Unicorn took a few steps back, staring up high above them.

"Ya right, it no island." 

A large shadow went across the road.

"Quaraun. We needs to run."

"What? Why?"

Quaraun turned to face the pond, just in time to see a giant turtle, big as a house, rising up out of the water, on her way to the shore to protect her baby.

"Oh dear!"

Quaraun didn't have a chance to say any more, before Unicorn grabbed his arm and ran off the road towards the forest. 

"We needs to get to da trees, it too big to pass t'rough 'em."

The Humans were screaming and yelling and instead of running, drawing swords and arrows to battle the beast. Quaraun looked back into to see the massive turtle open it's mouth wide and scoup up a wagon filled with Humans and swallow it whole.

"It just ate them!"

"Yeah, well lets get oot of here before it eat us." 

ZooLock, who had been watching all of this from the meadow ran into the forest to catch up with Quaraun and Unicorn. The Elf stopped to catch his breath.

"What if the Humans follow us," ZooLock asked.

"What if they do?" Quaraun said, gasping for air. "I am so out of shape."

"They was pretty mad at you for making them stop, if any of them survive that turtle beast, they'll blame the deaths of the others on you."

"Good point."

Quaraun stared at the swamp's deadwod trees towering above him.

"Don't let them follow us," the Necromancer said to the trees.

Instantly every dead tree in the forest, uprooted itself and went marching off towards the Humans. The Humans worked frantically to drag their wounded from the pond's edge and avoid being eaten by the turtle, as the forest began to eat their dead.

"Great!" Unicorn said sarcastically. "And now if any survive they will just kill ya no questions asked."

"Come on," Quaraun said as he turned and walked deeper into the forest. "The more distance we put between us and them the better."

"What if some of them Humans survive?"

"They won't."

"What if they do?"

"They won't. The trees will eat them if they try to follow us."

"So what happened to all ya, live and let live, harm none crap?"

Quaraun shrugged.

"I'm a Necromancer. Besides, they're Humans. I'm an Elf. My job is to protect nature from Humans." Quaraun stopped walking and stood thinking for a moment.

"Thought Humans was part of the nature ya Elves was supposed to be protecting?"

~From "The Summoner of Darkness" 

 “I resurrect dead things and bring them back to life as beautiful things to bring colour and happy, cheerfulness to the world. The rumours are true, I can restore life to any dead thing, but I learned a long time ago there are terrible consequences to restore life to large complex beings, like Humans, Elves, Dragons... so I stick to small things... birds and butterflies, trees and flowers. It doesn't always work out right. There's a school of pink, flying flesh eating goldfish travelling through clouds off the coast of Canada and a flock of vampire turkeys roaming through the forests, not far from there...”

“Vampire turkeys?”

“Yes. I was new to Necromancy. There's a flock of nzambie chickens around somewhere as well. And Lich lichen growing on trees off...”

“Lich lichen? You mean fungus?”

“Yes.”

“You resurrected dead mushrooms?”

“Well they're not mushrooms...”

“They're mushrooms if I say they are and you resurrected them?”

“I use magic to plant roses in barren waste. I resurrect dead brush and dying dune grass as rose bushes. All the pink roses growing in the dunes along the coast... I made those out of dead brambles...”

“Roses?”

“Yes.”

“Why roses?”

“I like roses...”

“So, you're telling me that you're a pink sissified, pansy, panty waist of a Wizard who plants roses on the coast?”

“Yes,” Quaraun answered quietly. “They're undead roses. They bloom, all year long. Even in winter...”

“You resurrect dead roses?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I like roses.”

“You're pathetic, Quaraun.”

~From "GhoulSpawn and The Lich Lord's Lover" 

The last of the pure blooded High Elves, Quaraun hails himself as a heroic protector of nature, citing Humans as the plague sent to destroy plants and animals. Being the last High Elf, he's now gone overboard in his whole protecting nature thing, out of his fear that if he dies all plants and animals will die with him.

Seeing himself as good, Quaraun is seen by Humans as the evilest creature to ever live. Armies now march across the globe with one goal in mind - to find and cut down The World's Most Powerful Wizard.

Quaraun The Insane aka The Pink Necromancer: The World's Most Feared & Most Powerful Wizard

He is also the main character whose perspective the series is told from, thus the reader sees the story show Quaraun as the hero, while the Humans are shown as the villains, even though the reverse is true.

HOWEVER....

They came from a time when Humans were rare and magic was second nature. The planet was invaded by a race of alien-like squid headed Demons from another realm, a hell dimension only accessible by a portal, resulting in a war between the wizards, that was more or less an apocalypse, leaving Elven and Fae races nearly extinct, and wiping out completely nearly every other non-Human race (Gnomes, Dwarves, Orcs, Dragons, Unicorns, Goblins, etc are all extinct from this war), thus allowing the Human race to rise up and take over the planet.

The world of magic wielding wizards is gone, precisely because wizards DID get too powerful and they DID destroy the planet. This event is mentioned briefly at the start of the series, and comes up in conversations throughout the series. The Elven empire is gone (thus why only 1 High Elf remains), the Fae Realm lays in ruins, and the portal to the hell dimension has been sealed.

At the time the series starts, fewer than a thousand Elves, Fae, and Demons (combined) are known to still be alive, and of them only a dozen or so wizards still remain, including the 3 who were the most powerful and most feared of all (and these 3 being the main characters).

Anyone, Humans included, can learn to use magic, though it takes many years (centuries) of study to learn how to use it properly and without side effects, thus only the longest lived races/species ever become very powerful wizards. Because of this mass destruction of most all life on the planet, the Humans live in mortal fear of Elves, Faerie, Demons, and anyone who uses magic regardless of race/species, thus a militant group, known only as The Guild, rose up to power, took over the government and wields hefty punishments on anyone even remotely suspected of using magic. Once The Guild of Wizardry, a more or less eletite club for wealthy, nobleman, mostly Elven wizards, The Guild is now run by Humans and is more or less a group of witch hunters, running rampant across the land slaughtering and torturing anyone accused of witchcraft.

So, there's the world these rules are laid down for... let's look at your rules and see how I've dealt with these things in my world:


Quaraun and Unicorn, suddenly found themselves in another building, unlike anything they had ever seen before. Big as a town itself and filled with aisles of food. Fluorescent lights, blinking and flickering above them.

"Where the Hell are we?" Quaraun asked Unicorn.

"Does nah know. But people all is frozen."

21st century Humans stood around the freezer department, loading their shopping carts, but time had stopped for them, so now none could move.

A familiar bleating sound came from the next alise.

"Sheep. GhoulSpawn."

Quaraun and Unicorn ran down the aisle to the next, but GhoulSpawn was not what they found....

"You!" Quaraun pointed an accusing finger are the ancient orange robed wizard, whom many centuries ago, used to be GhoulSpawn, but no longer was. "You did this!"

The wizard did not answer them, instead, he sat in his red armchair and unwrapped Hostess Twinkies, breaking them apart and feeding them to his sheep.

"Where are we?"

"Earth. America. Maine. Biddeford. WalMart. Hostess Twinkie alise," The Gremlin said, not looking up.

"What is tis place?"

"It's like a market. A big one. Merchants sell their food to WalMart at a discount and WalMart sells it to the people. The merchants name was, Walden or Walton or Waldorf or Waldo or something. It's his market, thus the name WalMart. He also owns Sam's Clubs. His name is Sam. Sam Walden. I think. I'm not sure."

"What year is it now?"

"2016. November."

"Send us back."

"No. You don't want to go back."

"Yes, I do."

"No you don't."

"Send us back, right now!"

"Twinkie?"

Gremlin handed Quaraun a squishy yellow pastry.

"What the Hell is that?"

"Food. You'll like it. Sugariest thing ever made."

"Last time I took food from you it was poisoned."

"Posioned? I'm sorry, that should not have happened. What did I give you?"

"Pink sugar cubes."

"Ah! LSD. Oh dear. I should have told you how to take them. You melt one in Faerie Wine then drink the wine. Eating them like candy can be dangerous. I'm sorry. I had not meant to hurt you. You were in pain. As I recall, you were wounded. I gave them to you to help ease the pain. But a Twinkie is not medicine. It's cake, with it's frosting on the inside. The sheep love it."

"You and your sheep. What are we doing here?"

"Not dying."

"What?"

"I had to change your past again."

"Why?"

"I can't let you die."

"What?"

"Had you continued on where you were, you would have died. Now you are here with me instead. Alive."

Gremlin ate the Twinkie that Quaraun did not take from him.

"What happened to all these people?"

Quaraun pointed to the shoppers all standing frozen stiff.

"I've stopped time. More or less. Or rather, time is moving so slow for them and so fast of us, that we move among them invisibly. A spell you taught me, when you killed my people. The day we meet. I've learned how to do it now. They can neither see nor hear us. Makes it easier."

"Makes what easier? Stealing from them?"

Gremlin shrugged as he pulled another Twinkie box off the shelf and began opening the cellophane wrappers and feeding more Twinkies to his sheep. The sheep, with pastel coloured wool, were all gathered around him begging.

"It's been how many hundred years since I meet you and you're still a thief?"

"Some habits die hard."

~From "The Summoner of Darkness"

>>While food could theoretically be conjured to end world hunger, conjured food has no nutrition and so hunger still exists

In a similar sense, my world has a thing that is known as Faerie Food.

There is no regulations or laws or rules governing Faerie Food as there is much speculation over the reality of its existence. In other words the government has never been able to prove Faerie Food it a real phenomena and therefore is unable to make laws governing it's use and production.

Magic can not make something out of nothing. Magic is energy that is used to manipulate the world around you. Thus conjuring up food out of nothing is impossible. However, one could take a handful of dirt and turn it into a bowl of cherries. The person would eat them and they taste and smell like real cherries, but they have the same nutritional value as the dirt they were created from AND you'll end up with the same stomach upsets and digestive issues, caused by sitting down and eating a handful of dirt.

Magically created food is called Faerie Food, because it is common practice among trickster Fae, lure weary travellers into their homes, and then create vast feasts. Tables filled with fruits and pies and cakes and meats and vegetables, but are in reality made out of poison mushrooms. The person who eats Faerie Food is sent into a hallucinogenic nightmare, just before dying in agony.

The world they live in, is very "medival" in technology, and so has no mass production of food, no super markets, or WalMarts. Although due to time travel, WalMart does make a cameo apearance in the series.

People rely on farmers to have good harvests, and pray that droughts, floods, famines, and blizzards do not destroy the crops before harvest comes. Many in this world go hungry. Starvation is a problem. Thus is is easy for Faeries to tempt Humans to their doom with promises of full bellies. Faeries look so similar to Humans that they often pass for Human and so rarely is anyone aware, until it is too late, that they are being offered food made by Faeries.

The Faeries themselves are monsters in the truest sense of the word. Vicious predators, they rank highest on the food chain, and Humans are their primary food source. The Fae are immune to the side effect of poison mushrooms, thus, they can eat the flesh of a Human who died from poison mushrooms, without any harm coming to them.

Common advice said by everyone to everyone, throughout the entire series is: "Never take food from strangers."

Quaraun's lover, is the Fae wizard, BoomFuzzy the Unicorn, who is also a chef, and is hailed in the Realm of Fae as the finest baker and candy maker of them all. In a very Hansel and Gretel fashion, he is commonly seen dropping gingerbread houses into starving villages, and luring hungry children to come eat his house, so he can in turn eat the children. He is not the only Faerie to do this, though he is the boldest.

Most Fae put their candy and cake houses in the forest outside of a starving village (not right in the middle of the village like he does), and then hang sugar cookies, toffees, fairy cakes, and chocolates in the trees, along the path leading to the house. These Faerie paths are known as "a trail of treats" and most adults know if they find one, it leads to doom, but most children, giddy with the discovery of trees decorated with cookies, quickly gather them up, following the trail to the Faerie's house.

This world exists in a time when hungry is a serious problem, starvation is a daily event, and families with large numbers of children. A family typically has 8 to 12 children, but only 2 or 3 survive to adulthood. In areas where the famine has hit the hardest, you hear parents talk to one another about "a trail of treats", and often sending their children into the forest telling them to look for the trail of treats, and if they find it to follow the trail as it will lead to a house made of cake. This is a parent's way of getting rid of their excess children, and avoiding having to watch their children starve to death.

>>Healing powers are very dangerous and thereby banned so disease still exists

In my world, magic can heal, but only by transference. Meaning, if you heal a sword wound on one person, that sword wound will show up on someone else, specifically the wizard casting the healing spell. In order to heal someone, the wizard must be prepared to take on that sickness, disease, injury, or wound themselves.

In this world Healers exist. A Healer, is similar to a cross between a priest, a doctor, and a wizard. They use a combination of actual medicine, actual medical procedures, holy rituals, prayers, and magic, to heal people. They still have to deal with the transference issue, but, by using actual medical practices, they lesson the amount of illness they transfer to themselves. Also, the prayer and holy rituals, allows them to cast some of the illness out of the sick person and into a doll, stature, or holy relic, further lessening the amount of transference to themselves.

Healers are rare as the job is quite dangerous and they could die from the transference process, if they have not done their holy rituals and medical procedures correctly before casting the healing spell.

A controversial thing to exist in this world are Faerie Healers who specialize in assisted suicide.

In Fae culture suicide is an accepted form of death, and is one of the ways that Fae are seen by other species are bizarre, because most non-Fae are horrified by the thought of suicide, while Fae embrace and accept it. However, there is some question as to the Fae concept of suicide, givemn that Faeries are nearly immortal, and live many thousands of years, and rumours exist that Fae can not truly die, and only come back to life younger and healthier after killing themselves.

Theories exist that the Fae kill themselves as a method of healing and rebirth, to regenerate younger bodies for themselves after their old one wears out. Very little is actually known about he Fae, who remain the most mysterious and least understood of all races in the series. Some races speculate that it were the Fae who created the universe and that they are far more ancient then could be imagined, and that their child-like ways are simply because they are gods who've become bored after having lived for eons. Some races speculate that the Fae suicide rituals are nothing more then games Fae play in hopes that someday they will be able to experience true death.

The series' primary villain is a 3,000 year old Fae, who commits suicide in every novel of the series and comes back in the next novel, younger then he was in the previous novel. The series gives no definite explanation for how or why this is possible, leaving it as being one of the many mysteries that exist about the Fae. 

But back to the topic of Fae Healers who specialize in assisted suicide. As previously mentioned, there is a thing known as Faerie Food, which if you eat it, you will die, unless you are a Faerie and are immune to the toxins found in Amanita muscaria, commonly known as the fly agaric or fly amanita (the same mushroom used to make LSD.)

If a person is very ill, mortally wounded, or just doesn't want to live any more for some other reason, they can seek out a Fae Healer and request to be invited to a Fae Feast. Quite simple a funeral feast is made for the person, allowing them to have a glorious last meal, before dying in what is rumoured to be one of the more peaceful and pleasant ways to die (though no one knows for sure.)

Doctors exist, but medical science is still primitive, medieval, and risky.

Witches (women who brew herbs and make healing potions from plants and roots) are generally seen as the safest form of healing magic, as they use teas and poultices to heal with.

Seen as a type of minor wizard, both Healers and Witches, are now banned by The Guild and are executed without trial. And horrifyingly, any family who took their sick or injured loved ones to a Healer or a Witch, are also executed for the sin of consorting with mages.

Glass Dildo Wands Are A Real Thing.
If you've never seen one, here's what they look like:

>>Wands magnify the power of a magic user to the point where it is unwise to allow anyone to have one, so a test must be passed before purchasing one

From what you say, I'm guessing your world has a Harry Potter vibe going on, with there being places for wizards to buy wands and such. My own world does not lean that way, so the concept of buying wands does not exist.

In my world, not all wizards have wands. If he has a wand, he made it himself and it has special meaning to him.

Because my series is Yaoi (gay erotica, though the series is not erotica) the main character has a wand that is also a glass dildo.

Yep. You read that correctly, Quaraun's infamous rainbow wand is a glass dildo. Hand blown glass with a twisted spiraling corkscrew rainbow going through the length of it.

My three male wizards are very horny and they only have wands because wands are cough fun in bed. :P

That said...

High powered, big ass spells have to be cast manually, without a wand, many of these require fresh picked ingredients/herbs, not dried, not wilted; there's the process of making a magic circle out of salt and cornmeal and it's not a simple circle, but rather has hundreds of specific runes, sigils, and veevee in it.

It can take 2 or 3 hours or more to make one of these protective magic circles properly.

There is then a process of candle lighting, anointing the candles, prayers and chants, offerings to deity, and this is just preparations for casting the spell.

It can take 12 hours or more for a wizard to go through the whole process of casting a mega sized spell. Also, many spells require alignments of moons and stars, casting on specific holy days, etc... none of this is feasible for use on the battlefield.

So, even though wizards are deadly weapons that can cast horrifying spells of devastation, they are also limited by both the lengthy process of casting a spell, and the devastating health side effects a spell has on them physically and mentally, which for the most part prevents the bulk of magic users from becoming undefeatable war lord battle mages with unlimited access to energy.

GhoulSpawn glanced down at Quaraun. The Elf had not yet gotten back up and GhoulSpawn wondered if he was even going to.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine," Quaraun muttered.

"You sure?"

"Yep."

"What just happened?"

"I used the wrong wand."

"Wrong wand?"

"Yes. Happens frequently."

"You're an idiot."

"I know."

"How the hell did you get to be the most powerful wizard on the planet?"

"I killed Gibedon."

"So? Any body could have done that."

"He was the most powerful wizard on the planet."

"Is that really the only reason people are scared of you?"

"Apparently. I can't think of any other reason."

"I'm more powerful then you."

"You're bigger then me."

"Size has nothing to do with it."

"You're stronger then me."

"Everyone's stronger then you. You're a whimp."

"You're not even a wizard."

"I'm a Chaos Wizard."

"You're an Alchemist."

"I'm that too. I'm also a scientist. I was also born in 1974 and I'm stuck here with you in 14 whatever the hell year this is!"

"I remember it once being 1458."

"And how long ago was that?"

Quaraun silently thought for a moment.

"Three hundred years ago?"

"If it was 300 years ago, this would be the 1700s and this is most certainly not the 1700s."

"I don't know. I can't count."

"You can't count?"

"I don't know maths."

"You're the world's most powerful wizard and you can't do math?"

"No."

"How do you do anything with magic, without math?"

"You don't need maths for magic."

"Yes you do."

"No you don't. I've never used it."

"That would be why your wand just blew up in your face. Math would have solved the problem. Using the correct equations, prevents things like this from happening."

"No. Not reaching into my bag blindly and pulling out the wrong wand, prevents things like this from happening."

"Are you gonna get back up?"

"It's quite comfortable down here."

"How are you the world's most powerful wizard?"

"You already asked that."

"And you gave me a stupid answer."

"I gave you the correct answer. And I never said I was a powerful wizard. I don't use magic often. I try to avoid using magic."

"That's for sure."

"You're a wizard, why don't you use magic more often?"

"Because I'm trying to keep a low profile. I don't exactly belong here in the 1400s and every thing I do while I'm here changes history, which I'm trying not to do."

Quaraun didn't answer. GhoulSpawn looked to Unicorn, hoping he'd say something useful, but he was just standing there grinning and holding back some secret thing he found to laugh about.

"What's your problem?" GhoulSpawn asked.

Unicorn shrugged.

"It bemuses me dat whole fucking world is scared shitless of me sissy of an Elf here."

"Is he really the most powerful wizard in the world?"

"Aye. Him is."

"And he does things like this?"

GhoulSpawn pointed an accusing finger at the fallen Elf.

"Aye. Him stupid Elf."

"I'm not stupid," Quaraun said. "And I am the most powerful wizard out there."

"He's more powerful then you!" GhoulSpawn yelled at Quaraun and pointed to Unicorn

"Course I is," Unicorn answered. "I Elf Eater of Pepper Valley."

"You just said he was..."

"Him have more magic ability dan any one I ever knows. I is most powerful wizard world ever knew. I held dat title for centuries. Him come along un trap me in spell binding me too him. Now I can no use me magic. I must wait for him to give me permision to do magic. Him has power to contain me un no lets me use me magic no more. Him world most powerful wizard. Him stupid, eejit, clutz, but him very powerful stupid, eejit clutz."

Unicorn pointed to the blackened bunrt up, slime bubbling on the ground.

"Besides, him did what him set out to do. Even if him did do it wrong un it backfired in his face. Slimes is dead. So why ya complain?"

"Why do I complain? Oh I don't know, let me think... there's a hoard of pink feathered, zombie turkeys terrorizing Quebec..."

"I didn't mean to do that," Quaraun said.

"I know. That's my point. You're not the world's most powerful wizard, you're the world's most bumbling wizard. And I'm the one stuck with flying, pink finned, Elf eating goldfish following me every where I go. Hiding in clouds and trees, waiting to eat me like damned piranhas!"

"I'm sorry. I was resurrecting a flock of dead butterflies. I'm not sure how they turned into fish or why they latched on to following you."

"And, that's my point. You can't get your damned spells right. EVER!"

"The slimes are dead."

"Yes... only because of an error on your part." GhoulSpawn turned to Unicorn. "How do they rank wizards around here?"

"Ya mean here in Slushiville?" Unicorns asked.

"No. You know what I meant," GhoulSpawn yelled at Unicorn. "Stop trying to be stupid. You are are not stupid. Him? He's stupid. He's practically retarded. You? You're not. You have an intelligence like I don't know what. You are an evil mastermind, hell bent on destroying everything. You prance around all cute and cuddly to deceive people.  You just pretend to be stupid because you're a deviated sneak, always plotting something up your sleeve..."

"Harvey?" Unicorn pulled a snarling, long toothed, vampire rabbit out of his sleeve and handed it to GhoulSpawn.

"Why are you trying to drive me crazy?"

"Ain't ya name GhoulSpawn de Crazed?"

"That is not my name!" GhoulSpawn was now yelling hysterically. "I don't have a name! I'm a half-Elf. No one thought I was worthy of being given a damned name!"

"Yar swore."

"So what! You got the worst potty mouth I've ever seen."

"Aye. I knows it. But ya does no swear. I t'inks I hit a nerve, if I can gets moral, unright, standing yis to swear."

"We are supposed to be looking for a portal out of this god forsaken place..."

"I t'inks dey got too much god here."

"...and he's laying on the ground..." GhoulSpawn pointed at Quaraun again.

"So?"

"So, why don't you try to get him up?"

"Does ya know how hard it be to gets him ta stop walking un lays down?"

Unicorn sat down beside Quaraun.

"We can do wid a break."

"A break? HERE?"

"What wrong wid here?"

"We were just attacked by slimes."

"Aye. Un we gots world's most powerful wizard here to save up from them."

"He's incompitant."

"He killed the slimes."

"Only by accident. Because he's an idiot!"

"I'm right here, you know," Quaraun said.

~From "The City of The Slushies"

A wizard often has a "focus", which is an object he mentally concentrate on while casting a spell, and uses as a means of pointing the spell in the right direction.

For example, a spell cast, while flinging your hand in a certain direction, is going to result in a wide spread, spell, effecting in a radius, equal to the wizard's five fingers. Whereas pointing with one finger, directs the spell to one place. It is for this reason some wizards use wands. In most cases the wand itself contains no magical properties and is just a device used by the wizard to narrow focus the direction of the spell he is casting.

Some wizards, my main character included, load their wands with "pre-made" spells, so that they can cast them quickly. This is because spells require lengthy rituals to cast, and properly casting a spell can take several hours to do. By pre-casting a spell and loading it into a wand, the wizard is now able to activate that spell at any time by saying a specific word, phrase or chant to unleash the spell.

Because of this, some wizards have many wands, one for each spell, as multi-loading multiple spells into a wand can be risky. Risky, because casting one spell, may inadvertently cast all the spells loaded in the wand, instead of just the one he wanted to cast. Quaraun's Rainbow Wand is multi-prepped with spells that are triggered by colour coded commands.

Unfortunately, he is often drunk, in a tavern, when Quaraun gets mad at someone and starts flinging these pre-cast spells at them... drunk and unable to remember which colour casts which spell and too drunk to say any word correctly. A common scene seen in the series is him flying off the handle, his hot tempered aiming of a wand at someone, and his wand either casting the wrong spell or all of the spells loaded in it at once.

>>In my setting, magical people are hunted by a third party and muggles remain ignorant to their existence and when made aware if not mind-wiped have the option to learn magic

Uhm... just so you know... if this is fanfiction, it's not a big problem, but if you are planning to publish this, find another word for your non-magical people. 

Muggles is one of the MANY words that J.K.Rowlings has filed as copyrighted and trademarked, and she has a nasty reputation for suing people (children) to hell and back if they use any of her copyrighted words in their published works.

Also, if this is something going on FanFiction.net, know that she has sued both FanFiction.net and it's members on multiple occasions and has successfully gotten tens of thousands of Harry Potter fanfic deleted from the internet for using the words she owns the trademark to.

After anything made by Disney, Harry Potter is perhaps the riskiest series to write fanfiction for, because of her glut lust for squeezing every last penny, car, and house out of her 10 year old fans AND their parents. Please tread carefully when using ANY word from the Harry Potter series. J.K.Rowlings has a reputation for being one hell of a nasty assed bitch when it comes to her money lust for lawsuits against her fans.

>>Unlimited Energy. Many fantasy settings place a limit on the number of spells or magical force that someone can use up before they need to recuperate. What is to stop someone from extensively studying sooooo much that they have infinite ability to cast unlimited spells? Even the physically strongest athlete will tire eventually.

>>I was toying around with the idea of a magical overdose being a potential effect of reaching beyond your magical capacity

In my world, magic exists in nature (not in someone's genes) and is more or less energy. Using magic (casting a spell) means, harnessing that energy into one's body, manipulating/bending/altering it somehow (via rituals, runes, prayers, sigils, chants, enhancing it by taking drugs or drinking potions, etc), and then channeling it elsewhere to come to a desired end result.

Because of the nature of how magic is used, it is physically draining on the mage/caster. A wizard is pulling magnetic, gravitational, electric, and gamma ray energy out of the planet's core and into their body. The effect is like sticking a fork in an electric outlet. If someone not trained in magic, tries to cast a spell they could easily kill themselves and be found as a charred burnt crisps. Wizards go to great lengths to protect themselves. Things like magic circles, lighting candles, using a compass to ensure facing proper directions, wearing specific fabrics and protective clothing, all contribute to protecting the wizard's body from physical harm.

Few mages ever go on to become wizards. A mage is a person who studies magic, hoping to learn it. Many will either seriously injure themselves or die, within the first few years of training. Advanced magic arts take centuries to learn and perfect, thus why wizards are always either Elves, Fae, or Demons, because they are the only races who live long enough to learn the advanced arts and move on to becoming wizards.

All wizards are at minimum 300 years old before receiving the title of wizard, as no one has ever learned the advanced arts in a lesser time frame. A wizard is a spell caster, who has succeeded in casting super-powered god-like spells. They are often seen by cultists as demigods, and some cults spread rumors that wizards have the blood of the Elder Gods (yes, as in, Cthulhu Mythos type Elder Gods). Basically, a wizard has to sort of build up an immunity to the side effects of pulling the earth's energy into their bodies.

However, there is a trade off here. The more powerful a wizard becomes magically, the more sickly he becomes physically. Pulling energy into one's body, causes deep stress on the brain, muscles, organs, and nerves. Wizards often suffer from ruptured organs, burst blood vessels, and nerve damage, as a result of their spells. Wizards suffer psychosis similar to the real world "test pilot syndrome", where the high stress levels from manipulating energy causes them to slowly go insane. As a general rule the more magically powerful a wizard is, the more mentally unstable and schizophrenic he becomes. Most every high level wizard suffers from PTSD, schizophrenia, OCD, and severe crippling levels of anxiety.

A wizard can't just cast a FireBall and expect to suffer no damage. If he didn't take precautions, he'd easily burn his hands to the bone, or set his clothes on fire and burn to death before anyone could help put the fire out. When a wizard casts a lightning bolt spell, he risks being charred to ash, from his own lightning bolt. Wizarding is a very dangerous, very high risk job.

Also, this means too, that wizards can not be used in battle to fight alongside soldiers. They are a serious liability. They are physically weak as shit, do not have the strength to wear armour, and require bodyguards, shield men, and shieldmaidens to surround them and protect them from enemy attacks at all times. While simple spells can be premade and put in a wand for casting later, any spell that is simple enough to load in a wand is not powerful enough to be effective in the battlefield.

>>Teleportation allows instantaneous travel to anywhere on the globe, as such the magical leaders of countries/territories monitor who comes and goes

Some Fae have the natural ability to teleport a limited distance. Usually only a few feet or from one room to the next, but some who have trained to better this skill can travel a few miles distance. This ability is known as "Blinking" because they blink out of existence to blink back into existence someplace else.

Similar to Blinking is a spell known as Fae Step, used by wizards to dodge an attack. It's limited, and only allows movement to a few feet away. Rarely does Fae Step move a person more than 10 or 12 feet away. Essentially, if you was to run at a wizard, sword out, intending to strike him, he could simply take a side step and move ten feet instead of a few inches. By the time you realize what he's done, he's done it again and is not behind you, driving a dagger into you back, before you've had a change to realize he even jumped out of the way of your sword.

Similar to Blinking and Fae Step, is Stray Sod. A bit more complicated, this is ritual magic and an advanced art. The basic gist of it is, a wizard takes a jarful of dirt from a specific place (the front lawn of his house for example), casts a teleportation spell on it. He carries the dirt with him in small glass vials. Then later, if the wizard is being chased and comes up a dead end or needs to get away fast, he smashes the vial on the ground, steps onto the dirt and instantly is transported back to the spot where he gathered the dirt. So, he he gathered the dirt from his front lawn, the spell transports him back to the lawn in front of his house.

Portal magic, the art of opening a hole/doorway in mid air, walking through it and coming out someplace else, is extremely dangerous and strictly forbidden, and comes with worse punishments from The Guild then Necromancy does.

Moving through portals has serious side effects, causes brain damage, nausea, vomiting, bloody noses, seizures, and disorientation. Wizards are often trained in how to deal with this and are able to move through portals with limited side effects, but common folk who try to use portals often end up suffering concussions, strokes, or heart attacks upon stepping out of the portal. It is not uncommon for a person to jump into a portal, and fall out of the other side, dead from a brain aneurysm. Even wizards trained in portal magic, have to rest for a few hours to a few days after using a portal because of the amount physical stress on their bodies, causes them to be weak and loopy for a while.

Quaraun stopped talking and walking and stood staring down at a clump of purple violets, beside the road.

“Flowers,” the Elf said quietly. "Unicorn, look! Flowers!"

“Aye. I sees dem.”

Unicorn looked at the flowers trying to determine why it was they had attracted the Elf’s interest.

"Flowers."

"Why ya getting emotional over flowers?"

“They’re alive.”

“Aye.”

Quaraun knelt beside the flowers, cupping his hands around them.

“Live flowers.”

“Yi act like ya ain’t never seen living flowers.”

“What?” Quaraun looked up at Unicorn. “Oh.”

Quaraun stood back up and looked around. Green grass was growing on the edges of the road. Some of the trees still had leaves clinging to the branches. Ramshorn sumac towered over the little Elf.

“There’s life here,” he said as he stared out over a pasture. “There is so little life on this planet. I wonder why there is still life here?”

“Ya keep gibbering about dis planet being lifeless.”

“It is. And I don’t gibber.”

“Why it dead?”

 “I don’t know. Something bad happened here. This is a bad future and we need to get out of it as soon as possible.”

“Any idea yet on how we does dat?”

“No. I never studied portal magic. It’s a lost art. The portals were sealed up.”

“Until Ghouly came along.”

“Yes. Poor GhoulSpawn. I wish I knew how he was doing.”

“Ya wishing again.”

“Am I?”

“Aye.”

“I gotta remember not to do that.”

Quaraun turned to look back down at the flowers, then jumped back startled.

"Oh my!"

No more were the leaves green and lush. The stems no longer nodded joyfully in the breeze. The flowers had lost their purple hues. Slowly Quaraun knelt down beside the plant. It looked to be made out of glass. Clear blue glass. He picked one of the stiff crystal blossoms, pricking his finger on it’s broken glass, shard stem.

“How odd.”

Quaraun held his hand up to Unicorn.

“I cut my finger.”

The undead creature immediately lunged on the Elf’s hand, sucking the blood from the wound.

Phookas eat Elves and Quaraun was of the habit of letting the beast drink his blood. A habit that most people found disturbing.

“I spoke too soon,” Quaraun said sadly, looking down at the crystal flower in his have, while the Phooka sucked the blood from his other hand. “This flower is dead as well. They are turning to crystal. Some sort of quartz.”

Quaraun looked up at the Phooka.

“It’s the same type of crystal, you are.”

Quaraun pulled his hand away from the Phooka.

“No. Stop. It has stopped bleeding. If you take too much, I’ll be too weak to travel. And we must find a way out of here first.”

The Phooka obediently released the Elf’s hand, then helped him back to his feet.

Unicorn looked at the blue crystal violet in Quaraun’s hand.

“Is de flower Lich?”

“It appears to be.”

“How dat possible?”

“I don’t know. The Crystal Plague."

"What dat?"

"Gremlin mentioned it once. He said, that Ongadada was the beginning of the end. He said the killed millions, but the Crystal Plague killed billions. This is the world after Ongadada. This is why he keeps trying to change the past. His past. Our correct time. He says it all the time. That he has to stop Ongadada from happening. He said the worst part of Ongagdada was the Crystal Plague that came after it. That has to be what this is."

"Why is bad t'ing?"

"I think the entire planet is turning into a Lich. This whole planet, is dying, and being reborn as an undead thing. What a horrible future this is. Whatever future we have come to... this can’t happen. It’s spreading over the planet like a plague. If it continues... every adult, every child, every animal, every bird, every plant, every tree, will rise up all undead. A planet of all nothing but Liches. This is worse than a nzambie apocalypse.”

~From "GhoulSpawn and The Lich Lord's Lover"

Portal magic is used heavily in the Quaraun series, but it's very dangerous. Opening a portal, literally involves ripping a hole in the fabric of time and space. The more portals that are opened, the more unstable the planet itself becomes. No one knows exactly how all this works, but it is known, that a mystical veil or invisible bubble wraps the world and protects it from the dangers of space, meteors, and the sun's burning rays. Every time someone opens a portal, they rip a new hole into this protective outer sphere of the planet, causing devastation to occur at the sight of said hole.

Devastation as in, the sun's burning rays burn the plant life to a crispe during the day, while ice cold blasts from space's atmosphere, cause a thing known as "The Crystal Plague" happens at night.

Wizards figure out how to open portals, but even so they have no clear understanding of how they work. It's not possible to open a portal and have it go where you want. It could take you anywhere. Any place. Any time. Any dimension. And not always in your galaxy. The portals are wormholes through time and space, and many wizards have been lost to them, never to return.

While much of what the Guild does is unnecessary and downright evil, and most of the laws they've made, are wrong and unjust, they were right to seal up the portals and ban their use. The portals were discovered by a powerful Demon sorcerer, known only as The Ghoul. One of the portals he opened, went to a Hell dimension that unleashed eldritch monstrosities onto Earth. Thus he was tossed into this very same Hell dimension and the portals to it sealed. 

But the wizards were not the ones who made the original portals. The Faeries did. Thousands of centuries ago, the first portals were opened, from another dimension, acting as a bridge between that world and the Earth. The Realm of Fae. Faeries are not native to Earth. They came here through a portal connecting their world to ours.

But though the Faerie discovered them, no one knows, who built them. Thousands of portal exist all over the universe. Bridges through time. Bridges through space. An ancient roadway through space, created by ancient aliens. Wizards don't build these portals, they simply know how to look for, find, and either open or close them.

The Chrysal Plague is a terrifying alien plague, for which there is no known cure. It looks like innocent blue ice-like quartz crystals growing up through the ground. But touch it, and immediately it starts growing and spreading very quickly, turning you into a frozen dead statue, encased in crystal, while it drains you of your blood and inner organs.

Portals can be located, by the fact that these areas have these strange crystals growing from the ground, plants, and animals in the area. Not everyone dies from the Crystal Plague, in some it just grows on them, using them as a host. The plague then spreads from one person to another, when an infected plague carrier touches someone else.

The worst part of the Crystal Plague is its ability to make people seemingly immortal, but neither dead, not alive. It can not do this on it's own however. Wizards who are skilled in the very advanced arts, have learned how to take these alien crystal parasites, and transfer them into corpses, causing the dead to rise, and creating a near undefeatable undead beast known as Frost Liches.

The laws made by the Guild, have put full on bans on portals, and anyone found using them, is tossed into one of them, then it sealed behind them, trapping ing them forever in a place and/or time not their own. And while they could possibly find their way back, time moves differently between portals. Every day here, may be a year, or ten years there. By the time they find their way back, the world they knew, the people they loved are long gone. Distant memories of the past.

Only one wizard, GhoulSpawn, son of The Ghoul, has ever been able to successful use portals with any reliability. He has made extensive maps of them and knows when and where each one goes to, and now uses them daily to go anywhere, any time, he choices.

>>The dead cannot be brought back once laid to rest so people aren't constantly ressurected

Continuing from what I was just saying...

Undead are a regular and much feared part of this world. Vampires, Ghouls, Zombies, and Ghosts walk the earth. They do not require wizards or magic to cause them. They are the side effects of various diseases and plagues. Referred to as The Cursed Ones, they are often created by magic, as a way to curse, or punish someone. Undead who were caused by plague and disease, are quite different from undead caused by curses. Undead caused by plague can be killed. Cutting off a vampire's head kills it for example. Cutting off a Zombie's head, doesn't kill it, kills only the body, the head still lives, but at least it's not able to chase you anymore and can now be dropped in a vat of other zombie heads, safely contained ad no longer a danger to the village. Undead created by curses, require the curse to be lifted, before one can kill them.

Liches however are magically created undead, that can only be created by very advanced necromancy. They are very rare, and very dangerous. Made by removing a person's soul, seconds after they die, before the soul has a chance to leave on it's own, many Liches are either victims of murder or assisted suicide. Generally a victim of a wizard who kidnapped, then killed the person during a Lich making ritual, they are also created when a wizard commits suicide and has his assistant perform the ritual. Soul bound to the Necromancer who created them, a Lich can never disobey their master and are a slave to the Necromancer that created them. While they have freedom to live their own lives, should the Necromancer allow it, they can not resist or fight against any command the Necromancer gives them.

Unlike other undead, Liches are immortals and can not be defeated. Their bodies suffer pain and injury, and they can be killed and die, but minutes later they get back up again, like you never killed them. Liches are soul eater and can resurrect themselves as many times as they have souls inside them. Thus Liches either are, or have in their employ Di'Jinn wizards (Genies).

Di'Jinn are powerful trickster wizards able to grant wishes. Whatever you want they can give you - for a price. They give you what you wish for (which is rarely what you actually wanted, so word your wished VERY carefully) in exchange for a mere trifle: your soul.

The Di'Jinn, a type of Necromancer, are both the rarest and most powerful wizards of them all (the main character is a Di'Jinn wizard). They can do literally anything, but they also serve Lich Lords, and so, their goal is to get your soul, thus kill you as quickly as possible. They are charlaton, scam artists of the wizarding world, who seek out the desperate people in need of a quick solution. They offer to grant a wish, demand you sign a contract, neglect to tell you that you just agreed to give them your soul upon your death, and then swiftly go off to grant your wish, while plotting ways to make your wish kill you.

For example: if you wish for a house, you better be specific, otherwise the Di'Jinn will snap his fingers and house will magically appear. Too bad you didn't tell him where to put the house, as he dropped it on your head and now seconds after uttering your wish, you are dead and he has another soul to feed to his Lich. Thus is the nature of Necromancy in this world.

"I wish I had a house," the man said aimlessly.

"Really?" Quaraun asked.

"Yes."

"I can make that happen."

"How?"

"I am a Wizard of the Di'Jinn Order. Granting wishes is what I do."

"You'll give me a house?"

"Yes."

"What do I have to do?"

"Nothing. Just sign this contract and I'll give you anything you wish for."

Quaraun held out a scroll and a quill for the man.

"You got any ink for that?"

"No need for any. Just stab yourself with the nib. Sign it with blood."

"You're kidding."

"No. I'm am Elf. I never joke."

"I do that, and you'll give me a house?"

"Of course."

"Why?"

"I'm a Di'Jinn. I'm bound to grant any wish , anyone asks of me. It's what we do."

The man thought about it for a moment, then to GhoulSpawn's surprise, stabbed himself with the pen and signed the scroll, then handed them back to Quaraun.

"So, when do I get my house?" The man asked.

"Right now."

Quaraun snapped his fingers, and instantly a house dropped out of the sky, landing on top of the man and crushing him flat. A large pool of blood formed around the edges of the house.

"What the hell did you just do?" GhoulSpawn asked.

"I gave the man a house."

Quaraun rolled up the scroll, then tossed it to Unicorn, who put it in his bag.

"You killed him with a house."

"Yes. He neglected to tell me where to put it."

"So you put it on his head?"

"As good a place as any."

"You killed him."

"You said that."

"Why did you kill him?"

"It's what he agreed to."

"No he didn't."

"Yes he did. Unicorn, give me that contract back. Look."

Quaraun took the scroll, unrolled it, and handed it to GhoulSpawn, pointing to a line near the bottom. GhoulSpawn read it:

"...in the event of my death after said wish was granted, I agree to give my soul..."

Quaraun rolled up the scroll and tossed it back to Unicorn again.

"He agreed to give me his soul," Quaraun said.

"You're a murderer."

"You knew that."

"I thought it was something in the past. I didn't realize you were still killing people."

"Have you never killed anyone?"

"No!"

"Why not?"

"I'm not insane like you."

~From "City of the Slushies"

In order to kill a Lich, one must first kill it enough times that it uses up all the souls the Necromancer put in it (which could be hundreds or even thousands of souls), one must also destroy the phylactery that contains the person's real soul, the one they had before the Necromancer removed it and replaced with the souls of others, AND one must also kill the Necromancer that is controlling the Lich, otherwise he'll just keep on feeding it souls and bringing it back to life.

Thankfully, wizards who are skilled in the advanced levels of magic required to make a Lich are very rare, thus Liches are one of the rarest types of undead, and the creature you are least likely to ever encounter... of course, as the main character of the series is a Di'Jinn wizard, with multiple Liches at his command, that means every novel of the series also features Liches in spite of how rare they are.

That 3,000 year old Faerie wizard, I mentioned previously? The one who builds gingerbread houses and lures children down trails of treats? He's a Lich. The main character's lover, who died, and was resurrected by the main character as a Lich to make sure he'd never die again.

But back to laws regarding this Necromancy and resurrection of the dead.

True Necromancy is spirit communication and not the resurrection of corpses. This is not seen as nessacarily evil in and of itself, but calling up spirits of the dead to ask them questions, is still forbidden as it comes with many dangers.

For one thing, you can never be truly certain ho you are talking to. The spirit may or may not be the person you wanted to talk to and they may or may not tell you this. Most dead spirits do not like to be awoken and brought back to this life, often stating they were in a better place, then quickly cut off the communication so they can go back there.

When a spirit WANTS to talk to you, generally they are not in a better place and are seeking release, desiring to come back to the land of the living as it is better. This is where Necromancy gets dangerous. Often a spirit will pretend to be the person you called for, then will start telling the person who called them, how terrible a hell they are in and to please "bring me back, resurrect me".

This is where the confusion as to what Necromancy is and is not comes in. For Necromancy is simply talking to spirits and has nothing to do with resurrecting the dead, which is in fact a combination of Demonology and Blood Magic.

However... because it is Necromancers who are often duped into resurrecting a dead person, the word Necromancy is often incorrectly used to mean "one who resurrects the dead".

Necromancers are often sympathetic people, looking to help trapped spirits and ghosts move on to a better plain of existence, thus they come to pity the lost soul that begs for a release from the pain and suffering of the hell they are in. The spirit, knowing they can manipulate this person, will then give the Necromancer instructions "Here, do this, this is how you can save me".

Without realizing that #1: the spirit is not who they think it is; and #2: that the spirit is tricking them into performing Blood Magic and Demonology;the Necromancer will often perform the rituals, mistakenly believing that they are helping a suffering loved one.

In most cases, the spirit is not a spirit at all, but instead a Demon, just looking for a gateway into the Human plane of existence. The Necromancer will unwittingly put this Demon into the dead corpse of their loved one and the Demon will pretend to be that loved one, resurrected. Any difference in personality, will simply be explained as side effects of the ritual.

Thus ressurected bodies, are rarely the person who was originally born into that body and are in fact Demons wearing Human skins. Thus is the nature of Demon Possession in Quaraun's world.

The real danger comes in later, when the Demon, now realizing how much the Necromancer loved this dead person, starts to ask the Necromancer to do other things, and the requests coming from the resurrected body of a loved one, the Necromancer simply obeys without question. They are too happy to have their loved one back alive again, to ask questions. They are alive again and the Necromancer now has a second chance to be a better person to their loved one and is now willing to do anything they ask.

The Demon possessed, will tell the Necromancer sad tales of: "You remember ___? You know the one who died last year. He was there too. I can't bear to think that I escaped and he is still back there. Let's respect him too."

Thus the cycle begins, as the Necromancer, resurrects first one person then another and another... soon releasing dozens of Demons upon the world without realizing it, thinking they are restoring life to their dead friends and family.

If the Necromancer does figure it out, it's too late to do anything. Getting a Demon out of a body once possessed, is nearly  impossible, and a Necromancer, being only a person trained in how to communicate with spirits, do not have the skill or training to cast out Demons and send them back to Hell.

Needless to say, Necromancy, Di'Jinns, and resurrecting the dead are all strictly forbidden and any one caught doing it or even scholars just researching books on it, are executed. All books found mentioning Necromancy, Di'Jinns, and resurrecting the dead are burned, their owners and/or authors burned with them. It is because of the main character's ability to create Liches, that he is also The Guild's #1 most wanted criminal.

Quaraun held up a wanted poster with his face on it.

"You know these pictures don't do me justice. I should do a sit down with their artist. Pose for my wanted poster. Now I ask you, does this even look anything like me?"

Kelim looked at the wanted poster.

WANTED: QUARAUN THE INSANE: Wanted for Necromancy, Demonology, Sorcery, Black Magic, murder, rape, buggery, sodomy, cross-dressing, bathing more than twice a year... 

There were more things on the list, but Quaraun rolled up the poster and stuffed it back in his bag, before Kelim had time to read the rest.

"I am the most beautiful Elf the world has ever seen. Look at me! That artist, clearly never saw me. How does Finderu ever expect to capture me if he can't even find an artist that can capture my beauty?"

"You're very vain, aren't you?"

“You would be too, if you were as beautiful as me."

"Ofelia is as beautiful as you."

"No one is as beautiful as me."

~From "Kelim and The Necromancer"

Quaraun, is one of the few Necromancers, who DID start out advanced, before turning to Necromancy, and was in fact aware that the spirit he is dealing with may not be who it claims to be.

Throughout the series you see Quaraun comparing his beloved dead lover BoomFuzzy the chef, to his resurrected new lover BoomFuzzy the Unicorn. He sees that while the to are similar, many stark differences are there.

In life, he'd been a harsh, cruel, uncaring man. A ditector king who slaughtered his subjects on a whim. But the resurrected Unicorn, lacks BoomFuzzy's harshness and has a very hyperactive, child-like, jokester personality that is starkly different from how BoomFuzzy had acted in life.

The most notable difference between the two, being that BoomFuzzy, in life was King Gwallmaiic, a nobleman, who'd studied Dark Arts and became a Sorcerer, going on to write dozens of grimoires and spellbooks on the Dark Arts. Books that Quaraun now owns.

And yet, the resurrected BoomFuzzy the Unicorn is illiterate. He can neither read nor write. When asked to read the tomes, handbound books, penned with his own hands, Unicorn states he knows not what they say. When told the handwriting is his own, he brushes the notion aside, stating that resurrection, damaged his brain, erased his memories, and he not only forgot how to read and write, but also forget that he had written do many famous wizarding texts.

There are many times when Quaraun, questions if this truly is his dead lover back again, or someone else in his body, just pretending to be him.

Twice, in two seperate novels, you see Quaraun turn on Unicorn and attempt to undo the resurrect spell. Once attempting to sacrifice him on the altar the original BoomFuzzy had built for his bloody rituals (in the novel The Obsidian Idol of The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley), and once, by casting a runic spell to separate a golem from the Demon animating it (in the novel GhoulSpawn and The Lich Lord's Lover).

Both spells nearly succeed in in casting the Unicorn spirit out of BoomFuzzy's body, but in both incidents, Quaraun found himself unable to complete the spell. Knowing the spirit in his lover is not in fact his lover, Quaraun still could not face living without his lover by his side, even if it was the wrong spirit in the correct body. Thus he ended the spell before completion allowing the spirit to continue to live in the body of his lover, a fact which he reveals to his friends BeaLuna, FarDarrig, and Bullgaar in The Vulgar Alchemist Inn, where he explains why he tried to sacrifice the resurrected BoomFuzzy.

Before the attempted sacrifice, Quaraun was calling the resurrected one BoomFuzzy, but after the failed sacrifice, he starts calling him Unicorn instead, strictly forbidding the resurrected one, from ever calling himself BoomFuzzy again, thus how BoomFuzzy becomes known as Unicorn.

Quaraun and BoomFuzzy were together 30 years before BoomFuzzy's death. Quaraun is with the resurrected Unicorn for 400 years, and in the later volumes of the series, you see Quaraun stop trying to find BoomFuzzy's lost soul, stating that if he did find it, he'd have to cast out Unicorn from BoomFuzzy's body, but he now loves Unicorn, more then then BoomFuzzy, who had become nothing more than a distant memory to him.

This is a typical situation for Necromancers who get into resurrection spells. They start out trying to communicate with a dead loved one, and end up tricked into unwittingly summoning a different spirit into their loved ones body.

It is because of the dangers of bring back unsavory people or even Demons, that causes Necromancy to be banned.

>>In regards to time travel, the grandfather paradox cannot be resolved so yes someone can go to the past but they cannot change anything that would prevent them from having a reason to go back in time in the first place. (ie you cannot save person x in the past because if they never died in the first place you would have never gone back in time at all) it's basically the most useless form of time travel ever

Time travel is used heavily in this world, but only by very few people as fewer than a dozen people even know that time travel exists. The Guild has time travel banned as well, but it's all hush-hush, because no one wants it getting out. Chaos would ensue if the common folk suddenly found themselves able to travel through time.

The half-Elf suddenly stopped talking and looked very troubled.

"That is most definitely GhoulSpawn," Unicorn said to Quaraun. "Him be reading one of them cyclops oPiedias in his head again."

"No," he said shaking his head. "Forget everything I just said. It didn't happen yet. Not for you. Oh dear. I'm in the right place, but I'm in the wrong time. I don't know when I am. You died a long time ago. I forgot."

"I died?"

"Centuries ago."

"Are you sure you know who I am?"

Gremlin stared at Quaraun. Then stared at Unicorn. Then back to Quaraun.

"You're the Grand High Emperor of the Triple Planets."

"I suppose."

"And he's a unicorn. Though he doesn't look like one right now."

"Do you know our names?"

"Names?"

"Yes. We do have names."

"Names."

"People in the future still use names don't they?"

"I'm sorry. I forgot your name."

"Really? How'd you do that?"

"You died four hundred years ago. I've forgotten a lot of things." 

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"They did something to my head."

"Who did?"

"Checka."

"Checka?" 

"He used to be ZooLock. He changed bodies. He's not a squid any more. No Thullid is now. Don't trust ZooLock. Never trust ZooLLock. He's not your friend."

"We seem to have lost him. AGAIN. He keeps running away."

"Is ZooLock with you?"

"He was. Highwaymen attacked us and he escaped."

"Escaped. I remember. You had him in chains. In the old cathedral."

"What old cathedral?"

"It hasn't happened yet."

"I guess not."

"That's good. That means there's still time. I'm not too late."

"Too late for what?"

"You're hurt. Your leg. The Hell Hounds bit you."

"Yes they did."

"How long ago did that happen?"

"A few hours ago."

"I'm in the right time. And the right place. This is where I should be. I didn't miss it."

"What are you trying to not miss?"

"Let ZooLock go and take GhoulSpawn instead."

"Why?"

"So they don't kill him. Please. Let him live. He's so scared. He needs your help, but he won't ask for it. He scared of everything. He's scared of you. He's especially scared of the Phooka. But he trusts HellBorne and he shouldn't. He needs to trust you instead."

"I don't understand."

"There isn't time to explain. There's a hurricane coming. It'll be here soon. Here..."

"Do you... Need help... Or something? You... You seem out of sorts. Are you okay?"

"No. I'm barely surviving these days. I can always find Black Tower. It exists in every space of every time of every dimension, on every planet, in every galaxy. I don't know how. Or why. It's like that volcano, your Lich used to live in. It exists everywhere and no where at the same time."

"What's Black Tower?"

"You'll see it soon. Don't go there. Just take GhoulSpawn away from HellBorne. Don't let them kill him. It's good to see you again. I miss you. I miss both of you."

"Are you GhoulSpawn?"

"GhoulSpawn's dead. I just live in his body. I'm not GhoulSpawn. I'm The Gremlin who lives in his body."

"Are you a Thullid?"

"What year is it?"

"I don't know. I can't count. I don't know numbers."

"You look young."

"Do I?"

"How old are you?"

"I'm 400 hundred. At least."

"You are young. You're too young. I'm in the wrong time. It's hard to control the portals. I can get to the right places, but not the right times."

"Are you okay? You sound confused."

"Have we met yet?"

"You already asked that."

"You didn't answer. What's my name?"

"You said Glinter the first time we meet and GhoulSpawn the second time."

"Glinter? Have you recently met Glinter?"

"Uhm... Why are you talking about yourself like you are not yourself?"

"Time travel. Though I probably shouldn't have said that. Oh dear. You're not supposed to know that. I so am so differently in the wrong place. Have you recently met Glinter? Are the Sun Elves still alive?"

"I'm not sure what you mean. Are the Sun Elves dead? There's still time to stop you."

"Stop me?"

"You can't do what you are going to do."

"What am I going to do?"

"You're gonna meet an evil wizard and you're gonna kill him, which is a good thing, it's gonna save a lot of lives, but... you can't do it."

"Why not?"

"You have to stop him from killing GhoulSpawn instead. It's going to set in motion the events which cause Ongadada to happen."

"What's Ongadada?"

"Every one dies. The whole planet. The whole solar system. Billions of people. Dead in the blink of an eye. It's how King Vielder's reign of terror got started. We have to stop Ongadada. Please. Go back. Don't keep following this road. Just go the other way."

"Why?"

"I can't... I've told you too much already. It's not good to know your future. I can't tell you more. Just find a different road. Please. I have to go."

"Who are you? Are we friends?" Quaraun asked. "In the future."

"We were."

"But not any more?"

Gremlin shook his head and looked away.

 "You forgot my name. That means you haven't seen me in a long time. You said I died. What happened?"

"You died. You died a long time ago. I'm sorry."

"Was it your fault I died?"

"No. But I think I could have saved you and I didn't. I was scared. I could have saved you. I chose not to and I regret it. I was too scared of Harrier. He did what no one else could do. I didn't think he would kill you. I didn't think he could. I didn't know any one could. I'm so sorry. I didn't know what he was gonna do."

"What did he do?"

"He killed his grandfather." 

Gremlin's eyes gazed to Unicorn. 

"Permanently. So he couldn't come back. He knew how to kill Liches." 

He looked back to Quaraun. 

"They killed him. HellBorne's gonna kill him. He's innocent. GhoulSpawn doesn't know what HellBorne is doing. He's not involved in what they're doing. He doesn't know what they're planning. Please, get him away from HellBorne. He won't leave on his own. Don't trust ZooLock. Keep him away from GhoulSpawn. I'm The Gremlin. GhoulSpawn died centuries ago for me, but I think for you, it's about to happen. The Kats think I'm trying to help them stop Ongadada to save the galaxy. I'm not so noble. I loved you very much. I still do. I never stopped loving you. If I can stop Ongadada, Harrier won't have reason to come after you and you won't die... or at least not how you did."

"You watched me die. I can see it your eyes."

Gremlin's eyes glazed over, staring off into the distince as the horrors of Quaraun's death played over again in his mind.  He closed his eyes trying to block out the image.

"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."

Gremlin's voice cracked as he fought back tears.

"I have to go. Don't follow this road. Please."

Before Quaraun could say anything, the strange orange robed wizard vanished as quickly as he had appeared.

"What were that?" Unicorn asked Quaraun.

"I'm not sure."

"Him look very old."

"He did."

"Was that GhoulSpawn?"

"I think so."

"Him must be nigh on a thousand years old."

"I noticed."

"He still has sheep."

"I noticed that too."

"Him were so very young last time we saw him."

"He was."

"That were only a day ago."

"It was."

"Him really is time traveller, yes?"

"I think he is."

"T'ink what him says be true?"

"I don't know. But I think," Quaraun turned around. "I'm not gona tempt fate and we'll go this way instead, in case he was telling the truth. Glinter helped us before and so did GhoulSpawn. No reason to think he isn't helping us again now, no matter who he calls himself. Let's go."

Quaraun went back in the direction they had come from. Unicorn followed him.

~From "The Summoner of Darkness"

Time travel is a particularly dangerous form of magic, for the wizard casting it, as it requires the use of high doses of hallucinogenic drugs. It's easy to overdose, causing serious brain damage or death. The basic principle behind this is the act of moving through time causes insanity, and the drugs prevent this.

One of the 3 main character wizards, the Demon, specializes in portals and time travels. Though is past portal using self is not a time traveler and lives in the 1400s, his future self from the 1970s, is a wizard turned mad scientist and drives a time machine car, built out of a 1974 AMC Gremlin that is powered by LSD. This because his father was one of the Demons sealed away in the hell dimension and he is attempting to open a new portal to Hell to help his family escape and return to Earth. However, his goal changes near the end of the series when the Guild finally does capture and kill both the main character and his Lich lover, leaving the Demon wizard to be the last wizard on the planet still alive. He was forced to watch ass his 2 lovers were tortured to death. Deeply traumatized by this event, he throws himself obsessively into the idea of going back in time and changing history to prevent ANYTHING and EVERYTHING that ever happened, any place, any time, to lead to the Elf and the Faerie's brutal murder.

Because of this, the entire series (which spans 130 novels published so far - I started publishing these in 1978) can be read in any order. Every novel in the series can be read either before or after every other novel in the series as time is completely disrupted and not moving chronologically. In his obsession to stop the murder of his friends, the Demon wizard had literally broken time, and like a broken watch, the world now moves at a jittery, glitched up pace, with things happening over and over and over again, and the reader, never knowing the order of events to know which happened first, or which event is the true, correct, original event. You see the Demon wizard occurring twice in each novel, once as his younger self travelling with the Elf and Faerie ad once as his ancient time traveling future self, desperately trying to change the past to stop the future from happening.

Unfortunately.... while he can and is changing history, he can not change the end result. Minor things are changed. But save one person and someone else dies in their place. Stop a woman from being hit by a bus on Monday and she instead is hit by a train on Tuesday. The details can be changed, but the end result is always the same: she still died.

You see things repeated in every novel. The tavern scene from this novel here, is also in that novel there, but pay attention and you see the details are different. He's changing things. Moving things. Stopping certain people from getting into the building. The same scene, now done different. Every novel, something changes. Every novel he returns back to his future, and his friends still die anyways. He's trapped in an eternal loop of watching his friends be murdered again, and again, and again, not always the same way, not always by the same people. The details change. They may die at noon this time but died at midnight last time, maybe they wore blue this time and red last time, maybe they eat crumpets this time but omelets last time, be killed by a different person, die a different way - beheaded this time, hung the next time, he stops one method of them dying only to watch them die in yet another equally horrible death instead. Minor things change, but significant things remain. He changed how they died, but they still die. Only the details of how they die ever change, while their deaths remain a fixed point in history.

Because their murder is the event that causes him to go back in time, he can't prevent the murder from happening. Had they not been murdered, he never would have started using time travel. He realizes this, yet he hopes against hope that there is some loophole he's overlooked, and so he continues to go back in time hundreds of times, in a mad, failed attempt to stop their murders from happening.

The Guild has not only banned time travel, but has banned all mention of it. Anyone who knows it exists is locked up in an insane asylum, White Rock, and never seen again. This is what happened to GhoulSpawn, and how he ceased to exist and became The Gremlin. Decades of torture, being straight jacketed in solitary confinement, and multiple lobotomies, resulted in the poor wizard going mad.

When he was truly, deeply, unquestionably insane, they let him go. After 400 years of torture. Because White Rock exists in the Realm of Fae and can not be seen by Humans, no one believes the place is real, and no one believes GhoulSpawn when he tells them what was done to him there. Thus some wizards survive and are allowed by the Guild to live.

Even though he was one of the most powerful wizards, and rivaled Quaraun in his abilities, GhoulSpawn was not seen as a threat. His temperament and personality was docile, shy, peaceful, and nervous. He was too scared of most magic arts to use them, and too peaceful to ever harm anyone. While most wizards have killed people (accidently or on purpose) GhoulSpawn had never taken a life, and in fact was known to have rescued many from other wizards. He often stood up to other wizards and became seen as a protector.

Because wizards were too magically powerful to fight, the Guild needed a wizard on their side to fight for them. They thought they had found this in GhoulSpawn. Unfortunately, GhoulSpawn refused to help the Guild, thus he was tortured for 400 years, before finally being set free.

Time Travel in this world has some interesting side effects, in that, each time you go to a new future, that future remains, essentially creating a completely new world, within another dimension, resulting in many "alternate realities" existing side by side.

You see Quaraun mentioning this, when he says things like: "We need to return to the future without Unicorn. I left something behind there." The term The Future Without Unicorn, refers to an alternate future they discovered, when Quaraun accidently fell into a random portal that opened up in his garden one day. Though only gone for 4 days in his proper world, he lived in this portal world for 4 years, as time moves differently in each portal world, this one, at a rate of 1 day here equals 1 year there.

Quaraun goes to this particular portal to return to it's alternate future on many occasions, because while there the first time he got a young Human pregnant (in the novel The Haunted Lighthouse), and he returns to check in or her and her baby. However, he has to return every single day, in order to visit his daughter once a year in her time. This difference in time result in him taking a woman and her child, from this alternate future, and bringing them to his timeline so he ca see them daily and them not be a year older every day.

However, the baby, is the baby in the series often referred to by Gremlin as "the baby that should never have been born". This baby is a product of a man from on time period fathering a child with a woman from another time period, and has created a fracture in time, that starts to cause portals to open all over the planet sending people into them.

In some cases, such as the lost city of Roanoke, entire cities are swallowed up by these portals and never seen again.

People from yet another future, try to prevent this portl chaos by going back to Quaraun's past and kidnapping the baby (in the novel A Baby For The Necromancer),  casting her into a Hell Dimension to get rid of her and stop the chaos of random portals swallowing people.

Because Quaraun never sees his daughter again after this, not until decades later when she is grown up, he is unaware that she is his daughter, when he meets her once again (in the novel Zebulon's Captive) and she goes on to become his 3rd wife, as well as being the mother of his twin sons King Vielder and Melaca (in the novel The Battle of Ongadada as well as in my volumes of The Twighlight Manor series which the Quaraun series is the pre sequel too).

>>Dragonball Syndrome. Yep, based on the Dragonball anime. How do you stop someone from becoming so powerful that they can destroy a planet, and thereby destroying your story? Kind of like flipping a table when you lose at a board game. "Fuck you all. I cannot lose. I choose the Nuclear Option. MAD Theory. Your planet is now destroyed. Deal with that, tough guys."

Okay, for anybody reading the series and not wanting to know spoilers. Skip what I'm about to say and don't read the rest of this article as you are about to get major spoilers for how the series ends...

Quaraun literally is a magical time bomb slowly waiting to go off. He gets more bitter and pissed off as the series progresses. How the series end? He finally decides he's had enough, and just says: "Die!" and 3 solar systems blow up, taking 31 billion people out in a split second. The end.

The lesson?

Don't piss off the world's most powerful wizard.

But what exactly happened? We find out that by looking at your next rule of magic: shae shifting... or one person living in the body of someone else, pretending to be them.

If you are reading the series, you've probably figured out by now, that Quaraun is not quite "right" and noticed that he frequently tells people he has no brain because a pink jellyfish ate it.

People laugh at Quaraun and call him "The Insane" largly because of his claim that God is living in his head in the form of a tiny brain suck pink jellyfish...

...

...but what would happen if he was telling the truth this whole time, and god really WAS a tiny pink jellyfish, and she really WAS living in the hollowed out remains of his now brainless skull?

The fact remains, Quaraun is telling the truth, and God in fact has decided to live on Earth and walk among mankind, and God is a pink jellyfish, and she did pick his body to live in. The Sacred Pink JellyFish is a female demon, living in the body of a male Elf.

Let's look at what happens, when the series finally reveals this to be the truth about Quaraun:

>>Shapeshifting. What is to stop someone from pretending to be the President or Leader of your Magical World Government (who I assume oversees things like the Magical Law Enforcement bureau who enforce your world's bans on illegal magic). If anyone can murder someone and assume their form at will (like a doppelganger), how can this managed?

In my world, true shape shifting is rare. It is a natural ability of certain races of Fae, especially common in Faerie Horses (Unicorns, Kelpies, Hippogriffs, Phookas, etc) who can shift back and forth between horse and human forms.

There is no ability to shape-shift in magic. There is instead the ability to cast illusions. When one casts an illusion on oneself to "shift" into a different form, this is called a Glimmer Spell or Glamour Spell. Basically it's like wearing a costume because you haven't physically changed, but rather an aura around you causes people to see you as someone or something else.

There is a danger of shape shifting, and that is the changes, physical stresses, it puts on a person's organs, particularly their brain.

While true shape-shifting magic, actually molding your body into another shape, does not exist, that hasn't stopped many a wizard from turning to Alchemy and Cryogenic sciences to attempt to make such magic possible.

Knowing the dangers, these wizards do not test it on themselves, instead testing it on their victims. Many eldritch horrors, twisted, blobby, tentacle beasts, have been created this way. Once men, these squid headed, malformed beasts, are often mindless hulks of destruction, as warping their bodies, also warped their minds, destroying any thinking capacity in their brains, creating Gibbering Hulks and Mouthing Jabbers.

In the 1980s, Quaraun's grandson Al-Keeme rises up as the worst for this. Also known as The Lansquin, he combines magic, religious rituals, medical science, and alchemy, mass murdering thousands in his obsessive lust for immortality and eternal youth.

Quaraun uses Glimmer Spells constantly. He appears to forever never age. This is an illusion that he started doing once he started to look old. At first he was using small Glimmer Spells, to erase wrinkles and  smooth out imperfections of his skin, but over time he sustained several injuries, and begane using bigger Gimmer Spells to hide those as well.

In the book My Two Favourite People, the only book cover to feature him on the cover art, the cover art shows a very young, seemingly female Elf that looks to be a teenager. Yet, in this novel Quaraun is well over 750 years old, AND now no longer has a face, his face having been burned off and his tongue being cut out, while being tortured in prison.

From volume 119 onward Quaraun is mute, and thi is the beginning of the end as his insanity reaches levels none of his friends ever imagined possible, with him tuning wild and feral, viciously attack people, tearing them apart and eating them, as his descent into madness turns him into a wild, cannibal.

In My Two Favourite People, Quaraun starts using full on Shape Shifting spells, reverting his now badly deformed body into what he looked like at the age of 15, thus the picture of him on the cover of this volume reflecting that.

With his mind, snapped beyond repair, this novel is a set, just 19 years from The Battle of Ongadada, when he unleashed his deadly spell that annihilates 3 solar systems, causing a giant black hole that starts to swallow up the entire galaxy. 

His attack on the nation of Ongadada, results in alien races, from distant galaxies all across the universe, to join forces in capturing and seemingly executing not the wizard, but the deadly parasitic jellyfish that has burrowed into his skull and his controlling his brain.

The entire series changes full swing, with the revelation that wizards never existed, the Guild never was, and Quaraun himself never existed either and was in fact the reanimated corpse of a 9 year old Elf who was murdered over a thousand years ago, as the novels suddenly jump out of the 1400s, all hallucinations and illusions striped away, to reveal that the entire series has taken place in the year 2525 a solitary confinement cell inside of White Rock Asylum for the Criminal Insane, and is nothing more then an interview between a psychiatrist and the Twighlight Manor's mysterious "boy in the attic" Sunta Swanzen.

Outside the world lays in shattered ruins under a fracture moon that is fast crashing, while The Crystal Plague wipes out every last living thing on the planet, the remaining fragments of this apocalyptic world, scrambling to escape a sun that is about to supernova, and all of them trapped by a deadly Elder God, The Sacred Pink Jelly Fish, who has put up a barrier around the planet not letting any one leave.

Of the three inhabited planets in the solar system, two have already been sent spiralling off their orbits, both now in rought to crashing into the center planet.

Outside White Rock two rival cults are fast breaking down the walls, one come to save the Elder God, the other to kill her, while fissures open up across the planet unleashing tentacled horrors onto the populations.

There is no happy ending in what turns out to be very much a Cthulhu Mythos tale of how the Earth was destroyed by a tiny pink jellyfish living in the brain of a long dead Elf.

And while panic descends... Sunta, the thousand year old boy who looks 15 year old girl, does nothing but sit and laugh, while telling the psychiatrist Harrier, he is The Grand High Emperor of The Triple Planets, the hive mind Elder Brain goddess, The Sacred Pink Jelly Fish and there is no mercy for what they did to her.

Long thought to be the ravings of a lunatic, the story that a jellyfish is in his head eating his brain is at long last proved to be true when White Rock's guards attack the Elf, shattering his skull, only to find he has no brain, and was already dead. Instead of a brain, a ink jellyfish-like alien beast is found living in his skull.

There series stops in the Year 2525, because in the year 2525, the world ceases to exist...a side effect of casting a Glimmer Spell that twisted not only his body, but also his mind.

In the end, when all is revealed, Quaraun was simply the husk that God lived in, for The Sacred Pink Jelly Fish, truly was God, millions of years old, the creator of the universe, the Elder Brain that kept the planets in orbit, the life force for all life, and without it's creator there to keep the universe alive, everything ceased to exist upon her death.




But anyways, that's how I've dealt with these sorts of magic rules issues in my own series. Hopefully it'll give you some ideas you can use for your own story. Good luck with it!











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