Counting Down to the 2028 50th Anniversary of my first published book (September 23, 1978)
Happy 2026!
It is our 30th anniversary here at Space Dock 13!
On the web since 1996!
You have encountered an extremely old website that continues to exist in old web ways, the same way it has done for now three decades.
In spite of being now 30 years old this year, started in 1996, it is still heavily active and old pages updated daily, new pages added daily, still now in 2026. All hand written, all hand coded (no AI), all by me, same as it ever was.
We Still Exist: The Old Web Did Not Go Away, You Just Forgot How To Find Us
|
This site was NOT designed for mobile devices (as they had not been invented yet when I created it) thus this site looks best on a computer, at 1280x768 or above. |
This is a very old website created in 1996, so, yes, javascript is needed for the site to work as it should. If things don't function, you may need to update javascript drivers on your device |
This site tries to be mobile friendly but it's been online since 1996, so old pages may not load right on mobile devices, and as this site has had pages added near daily for 30 years there are now over 20k pages here. |
Having started out in life as a GeoCities site, this site contains glitter, bright colours, blinkies, moving gifs, and other things the old web was known for. |
My Two Favorite People:
FarDarrig and The Baby That Never Should Have Been
Quaraun The Insane
f you are here looking for aliens, ufos, demons, cryptids, haunted cars, curses, Etiole, the wild man of old orchard beach, the goldeneagle car, the white monkey, or any of that other weird bullshit, you want this video:
...and after that video, you want these ones:
|
|
 Wendy Christine Allen, 2019, able to sit up in a chair for the first time in years, and able to raise up my arm and wiggle fingers. This was when I started playing Witcher 3 on Twitch as part of my physical therapy to regain finger movement. Playing Witcher 3 daily from 2016 to 2019, is how I regained the use of my thumb and two for fingers on my right hand... it is also why I stopped playing Witcher 3 in 2019, once I had strengthen my two forefingers enough to start typing again.Wendy Christine Allen, Old Orchard Beach's Autistic Author, Artist, Illustrator, & Art Car Designer Counting Down to the September 23, 2028 50th Anniversary of my first published book (September 23, 1978) If you are here looking for The Twighlight Manor series, The Crystonite Wars series, The Wild Years series, The White Rock Asylum for the Criminally Insane series, The Twisted Tales series, the Captured By a MerMan series, The Space Dock 13 series, The Kats of Planet Ptarmagin series, the stories about Miss Citten the Eel-Kat, or the stories about Etiole... ALL of those series were combined and consolidated into The Adventures of Quaraun the Insane Pink Necromancer series in 2014, so ALL the different series, are now under one series title. List of the published titles still in print: The Index of over three thousand stories in The Pink Necromancer series What the series is about, for those new here: |
If you want some stories to get you started in The Pink Necromancer series, reading these first will give you a good introduction to the 3 main characters:
|
My Elves Are JellyFish...and I asked Google AI and ChatGPT 5.6 what they thought of this.
As requested, my daily writing prompt series is now available print paperback editions on Amazon.
There are 20 volumes of this writing prompt series currently planned and in varying stages of finishing, hopefully all 20 will be published by the end of 2026. I likely will do a 2nd series of writing prompt books in 2027.
Coming soon (Nov/Dec 2026)... patterns for my slow stitched embroidery:
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
The first of the Visual Novels/Video Games for The Adventures of Quaraun the Inane/The Pink Necromancer series is published and available on Itch.io, there are 3 more planned for release in 2026, 6 more planned for release in 2027, and the big 60-hour 80k word 150 page one (Quaraun Goes To the Fair) is planned for a 2028 release.
There is a Pink Necromancer card game and a Pink Necromancer board game, as well as a Pink Necromancer table top RPG supliment for Dungeons and Dragons, all in the works, and to be released over the next couple of years as well.
I shouldn't have to say this, but people keep contacting me, so apparently I do:
- No, I do not believe in aliens. Stop contacting me to ask for alien information. If you believe in aliens, I think you are insane, retarded, or both.
- No, my car is not haunted. I've debunked that rumour many times now. . Stop contacting me to ask for haunted car information. If you believe in haunted cars, I think you are insane, retarded, or both.
- No, I am not connected to Stephen King. I didn't even know who he was until you idiots started contacting me asking about him. I had to look him up on Google to find out what you were even talking about! If you have questions about Stephen King, go contact him and ask him. I'm not him. I don't know him. I know nothing about him. I've never read one of his books. I've never seen one of his movies. I can't figure out why you people are even coming to me to ask about him in the first place!
- If someone told you I believe in aliens, if someone told you my car was haunted, if someone told you I was connected to Stephen King, you NEED to contact the FBI agent in charge of my son's murder investigation and TELL HIM WHO it was who told ou, exactly WHAT it was they said, HOW they contacted you, WHERE they contacted you... because it is a KNOWN FACT that my son's murderer is the one who started all these slanderous alien, haunted car, Stephen King rumours, and the FBI is trying to catch her.
If you have any information about my son’s murderer, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.
Do you know who this woman is?
On August 8, 2013 she drove a backhoe over my house. On November 14, 2013 she arrived at Southern Maine Community College and crippled me with a golf club and murdered my son. One June 24, 2016, days after my first attempts to walk again, she attacked me with a shopping cart at Scarborough, Walmart, reinjuring the Nov 14, 2013 injury.
She crippled me when I was 8 months pregnant, a woman with a golf club, severed my spine and bashed my baby's head in, I spent 9 years relearning to walk, and the FBI is 13 years into the murder investigation and not yet id-ed the attacker who crippled me and killed my baby, both violently with a golf club.
Complete details of EVERYTHING she did is on this page here.
 The golf club woman who called herself Clair as she looked November 14, 2013. Her hair is a weird chin leangth pageboy (very Medival style cut) platinum blonde with wide brown/black dyed stripes in it (like a reverse of Lily Munster, but the stripes are several, almost like a zebra). I am 5'6" and she was a LOT taller then me, like closer to the height of a man; she had thin lips like a man, and large nose like a man... she COULD have been a man disguised as a woman, given the ease with which she severed my spine....she's is a LOT stronger then is typical for a woman). She was wearing a chambre blue denim "blazer jacket over shirt" and a button up mens shirt (possibly flannel) and blue jeans. The bulk of her yelling was focused on accusing me of being transgender, even while ripping my baby out of my 8 month pregnant belly and bashing his head in with a golf club. |
 The Claire woman as she looked during her shoping cart attack at Scarborough WalMart June 2016, the attack with left me paralyzed and in a wheelchair. Her hair was dyed dark red, and she drove away in a gold Volvo 240 Station Wagon of a late 1980s/early1990s model, with a "458" on the lisnce plate.... If you have any information about the woman who crippled me with a golf club, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office. |
|
If you have any information about the woman who crippled me with a golf club, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.
Good god! We just found out about yet another slanderous rumour this woman has been spreading? When does it end? How many more of these things are out there?
Video explains what else she's done ...
If you have any information about the woman who crippled me with a golf club, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.
 If you encounter anyone claiming my car is haunted, demon possessed, or somehow connected to Stephen King please give the information of who, when, where/location to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.
If you encounter anyone claiming I believe in aliens or was an alien abducttee, please give the information of who, when, where/location to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office. |
If you know who drove this backhoe over my house at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine 04064-1520 on August 8, 2013 please give the information of who it is to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.  If you know who drove this backhoe over my house at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine 04064-1520 on August 8, 2013 please give the information of who it is to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office. |
I am sick and tired of people not giving a shit that my son was murdered!
I am sick and tired of jackasses making up rumours and lies about me and my car, calling me an alien abductee and my car haunted, just to try to cover up my son's murder!
My Two Favorite People:
FarDarrig and The Baby That Never Should Have Been
Quaraun The Insane
Quaraun lay, half sitting up, propped up with many pillows, hugging the young she-Elf close to him. Both Elves looked terrified. Quaraun was scared of his closest friends. Scared of Unicorn. Scared of GhoulSpawn. Scared of FarDarrig. Quaraun was clutching the she-Elf to him as though he expected to be attacked at any moment. The terror in his eyes was unlike anything Unicorn had ever seen before.
Wild.
Deranged.
Quaraun had not said a word since they had found him. Instead he made growling, grunting, hissing sounds with his throat whenever any one tried to get close.
Quaraun was a very powerful wizard, and extremely dangerous when frightened or angry, and he was clearly both, though they did not know why. Unicorn and GhoulSpawn were his two closest and dearest friends and yet he was lashing out at them as though they were his mortal enemies. It scared them to see him like this. They had sent for FarDarrig, a psychic mind reader, to try to look into the Elf's mind and find out what was going on in his head.
The three of them stayed back now, waiting for the wizard's temper to calm. Waiting for it to be safe to approach the bed again.
Time slipped by and Quaraun seemed to have relaxed some. FarDarrig ventured closer to the bed. Quaraun's eyes followed the Vampire Leprechaun's every move. The undead psychic stood over the silent Elf.
"He's grown so old..." FarDarrig said. "Wherever he was, time moved different there. And you're right... There's a glimmer spell. Oh my. I can not tell you every thing you want to know. I can see through the glimmer spell, what it is he doesn't want you to see. I can see his silence. He's suffering. He is in great pain, far more then you can imagine. He's injured. Crippled. And afraid. He has terrible wounds and he's afraid to let you know, what they are. Where they are. ... His silence. ... He's injured. He can not talk. He's mute now. I don't think he'll ever be able to talk again."
"Why can't he talk?" Unicorn asked.
"He's injured. The glimmer spell... it hides a terrible, horrible injury. One that has left him mute. He doesn't want you to know. I won't tell you all. But I will tell you this. He's been burned. He doesn't want you to know what he looks like now. And his tongue's been cut out. He can't talk any more. I don't think he'll ever talk again. I don't think he can. The injury's new. The wound is not yet healed, but I think, even after it does heal, he'll not recover his ability to talk."
"His tongue's been cut out?"
"Yes."
BoomFuzzy the Unicorn CosPlay
"By who? And why?"
"Slave traders. Elf breeders. Humans. They made him a slave. He's an aristocrat. Royalty. A High Elf. He didn't take to being a slave well. He's stubborn. Insubordinate. Refused to obey orders. Talked back. Talked back too much. Too often. They burned his tongue. But it healed. And he went right back to it again. They did it several times. Each time he healed and never learned his lesson. It was easier to remove his tongue and be done with it."
"Who's the female?" Unicorn asked.
"She's his daughter, isn't she?" GhoulSpawn asked as he watched the old Elf cuddling the young pregnant she-Elf. The she-Elf was very beautiful, and looked hauntingly very much like Quaraun. She was clearly a Moon Elf and as Quaraun was the last Moon Elf, there was no other way for there to be a second Moon Elf unless he was her father.
"Yes," FarDarrig answered. "Her name is Pippiatta. And he can communicate with her, even without his tongue. The Elven hive mind. He has it with her. They can talk to each other without their voices. Speaking with their thoughts, the way other Elves do. The way he used to be able to do before he was cast out of Elf society and the hive mind connection severed from his brain. They are talking to each other constantly. They are very close. I believe they may be bonded."
"Soul bound? He's already soul bound to Unicorn."
"Yes, but an Elf can be bound to more then one mate. And he's been alone for a long time."
"She looks just like him. What about her baby? Is it his?"
"It is. And it's not her first. They've had others. They've been taken away. That's why they're afraid. That's why they are clinging to each other like this. They've both been hurt. They've both been traumitized. They've both found comfort in the embrace of the other. She's born him many children now. More then I can count. They've not been allowed to raise their children. The infants were taken from them hours after they were born. She's traumatized. Terrified. We are strangers to her. She is afraid we will take her baby. They'd been wandering in the forest for a few weeks before you found them...."
"He was only gone 7 days."
"Every day here was at least ten years there. They had escaped. Fled into the forest. She's been taking care of him. He hasn't been able to travel well. He's badly injured. They were both starving. She's been afraid. Afraid for mate. Afraid he would die. Afraid for her babies. Afraid they would not be born if she couldn't find food."
"Babies? More then one?"
"She's carrying twins. Both male. I can see their minds as well. Quaraun is hyper afraid. He's already afraid as is his nature, but he's feeling her fear as well, through the hive mind, and it's keying him up because he knows he's injured too badly to protect her. The babies can sense their mother's fear and so they are also afraid. Quaraun is connected to them by the hive mind as well. He knows his sons are afraid inside her womb and he knows he's too weak to protect them. That's why he's acting so keyed up right now. He wants to protect his family and he knows he can't. All 4 of them need to know they are safe here and that none of us will hurt them."
"How do we do that? Tell them they are safe?"
"Quaraun already knows it, but he doesn't. Her emotions are changing and altering his. He's in great pain. The worst of the burns are new. They were beating her. I'm not sure why. Something she did. Something she said. They were keep in barn like building. Hundred of Elves. Stalls like cells. They slept on the floor in piles of hay. They singled him out. The other Elves. He had no hive mind connection. They knew he was an out cast Elf. The other Elves, took care of each other, but they took away the food. Wouldn't let him eat. Beat him up when he tried to steal their scraps. The Humans didn't know. He was starving... oh dear..."
"What is it?"
"He went too long with eating. And then, there building was fenced in. Like a prison. The Elves were allowed to go outside. There was a field. With trees. And rocks. He went outside to look for food. Another Elf followed him. Bullied him. They didn't know he was a wizard. He tried to get away. But they found branches and rocks to hit him with. He tried to run, but they broke his leg. He was scared and hungry. He was ever so hungry. The Thullid inside him was starving to death. He's changed. He's not an Elf any more. He's a Thullid now."
"He's been a Thullid for decades."
"No. He's been holding on to the Elf. Keeping the Elf's memory alive. Pretending to be an Elf. He's not any more. He went too long without food. Week. They wouldn't let him eat. The other elves. The slave masters fed each Elf. Gave them all food. But then they left. And the other Elves took his food away. Because he's outcast. But they didn't he he was a Thullid. And at first no one noticed... The day in the field... the day they broke his leg. When they got down the Elves went back to their barn to sleep. He stayed outside. He was in too much pain. Hunger. And a broken leg. One Elf went out that night. Found him sitting alone in the field. And started pushing him around. And he changed. He's been using glimmer spells for a while. A long while. Long before the portal took him away. He's transformed. Alone with just the one Elf and no one else to see. And so very hungry. He dropped the glimmer spell, let the Elf see his Thullid form, just long enough, so the Elf knew what was happening. He killed him. Tore out his brain and ate it. No one noticed at first. There were so many Elves. Hundreds of them all in that one barn. So one missing. It took a few days to notice him gone... and by then a few more were gone too."
"Is ya saying, "Unicorn asked. "Quaraun has turned into a squid headed tentacle beast?"
"Almost, but not quite. He's a Jelly Thullid, not a Squid. He still retains his Elf body, but the jelly fish has grown huge. She's no longer the tiny little speck she once was. She filled his whole skull now. Curled up inside, like a little hermit crab nestled away, until she comes out to attack. Thousands of jelly tentacles, that can exit through his mouth and rip off your head, crush your skull, and tear out your brain, all in a few seconds. Then pull out the brain, up into his body, tuck it away in his skull, so she can feast on it in her leisure."
"I can do that too," GhoulSpawn said.
"Ya can?" Unicorn looked at GhoulSpawn.
"Yeah. Been able to do it a few years now. He's been a Thullid longer then me, he's probably been able to do it a few decades now."
"Does ya eat Elves?"
GhoulSpawn shook his head, silently, no.
"Does ya eat sheep?"
"I try not too."
"Ah."
Quaraun CosPlay
Unicorn looked at Quaraun. The frightened Moon Elf was still staring at them through widen, fear filled eyes, and clutching the she-Elf to his chest, looking ready to attack any one that got close to her.
"So him eat Elves now, and him has a daughter, who is pregnant wid his baby. And him scared out of his mind and hiding what him looks like cause him no longer look himself un does nay wants us to know."
"Basically. Yes."
"Any t'ing else?"
"He's very distressed over the incest issue."
"Incest is tradition with Moon Elf," Unicorn said. "Him always said him would never do that."
"He wasn't given a choice in that. They found the half-Elf he fathered many decades ago and forced him to breed with her several times."
"Forced to breed?"
"He was captured by slave traders and sold for a very high price to Elf breeders. They bred him to many she-Elves. He has fathered many children in his absence. Hundreds of children."
"Ya said him fathered this half-Elf long time gone, before him got taken?"
"Yes."
"Why did I not know that?"
"He hid it from you. He was scared you'd kill him."
"Kill him?"
"The memory of Gibedon haunts his mind."
"That was so long ago."
"He still carries Gibedon's head, to remind himself, you eat Elves. Even your lovers. Gibedon was the lover you had, just before him. He replaced Gibedon after you ate Gibedon."
"Is that why him keep Gibedon head?"
"Yes. You've killed, eaten, and replaced all of your previous lovers. He's terrified you'll do the same to him. More so now then ever."
"Why more so now?"
"He's been unfaithful to you. He knows you saw him copulating with the she-Elf. He's waiting for his punishment now."
"When did him father a half-Elf?"
"He was trapped in a portal before. Also in the future. He was unable to try to come back, because he was injured almost immediately after arriving. He was taken to a place where all the sick and injured were gathered together to be taken care of. A pregnant Human took care of him for several months, nursing him back to health. She was very excited about being a mother. And then her baby died. A previous husband, beat her up and killed the baby because it wasn't his. She was very sad. She was a widow, with no hope for another baby. She cried all the time. When he was well enough to leave the infirmary, he took the girl with him. He found Black Tower, but it was Black Tower in an alternate version of here and he couldn't find a portal to bring him back here. The girl stayed with him at Black Tower, but she remained very sad. He did not love her, but he was very sad for her. He took care of her and tried to make her happy again. But she was so distraught over the death of her baby, the sadness enveloped her and he became afraid she would kill herself. He didn't want her to die like BoomFuzzy did, so he took her into his bed and gave her another baby."
FarDarrig became deathly silent.
"What is wrong?" Unicorn asked the Leprechaun.
"She died. She was murdered. You found a portal to bring him back and she was left behind. He panicked. After he got back here, he realized he couldn't leave an Elf baby behind in that world. Because Elves did not exist in that world. He remember his own childhood. He remembered GhoulSpawn's childhood, being a half-Elf, raised without any one to love him. He didn't want that for his baby. He realized too late the error of creating a child, that never should have been, in a world where he did not belong. He thought bringing her back here would fix it. He'd changed history and he knew it. He'd left a half-Elf baby in a world with no Elves. He lied to you then, to get you to help him go back and bring the girl here."
"I remembers that."
"The future without Unicorn," GhoulSpawn said. "I remember it too. He was frantic. He was gonna go back if we helped him or not. He told us some one was trying to kill her. He wanted to protect her. He didn't tell us she was pregnant, we found that out when we met her. But you said she died? How? I thought we saved her."
"You did. And you brought her here, out of her time, out of her dimension... and you of all people should know you can't exist long in a dimension not your own..."
"But I'm a Demon from a Hell dimension, in a world that Demons shouldn't be in. It messes with my genetics. But she was a Human and this plain has Humans. I thought..."
"You thought wrong. And you took her out of her world, our of her dimension, out of her time, and took her to our past. He visited her several times. And when the baby was born, he went back to the same village many times to visit his half-Elf daughter."
"The village we kept going back to..." Unicorn whispered. "It was razed. The baby... That baby. Is that her? She's the baby? He went mad when the soldiers came and tried to take the baby. I couldn't understand why. I never seen him fight before. But he fought those soldiers. They crippled him. It why him on the cane now. Him would na let go of the baby, and he could no fight any more. They wounded him. He knew he was about to die. He knew if he just handed over the baby, they would have walked away. But he held on to her while they beat him. They shattered his spine. Then one soldier pulled out a sword and ran it through him. He still would no let the baby go. The soldier pulled out the sword and ran it through him again. Oh my poor Elf. He finally collapsed from lose of blood. Still clutch that baby. But he was too weak to hold on any more and they took her from his arm and they left. Left him lying in the street, his blood gushing from his body. He almost died. It was month before he could stand up again. Months more before he could walk. He never recovered. His leg's been lame ever since. I never seen defend any one like that before. He tried so hard hard to keep that baby.And ya saying, this girl here... she's that baby?"
"Yes. And that's why he's clinging to her like he is, right now. He doesn't want to lose her again."
"It was his baby? He was her father? Why didn't he tell me? I made him give it up. I didn't know he was the father. He never told me."
"He didn't dare to. You have a terrible temper."
"What baby?" GhoulSpawn asked Unicorn. "When did all this happen? Why didn't I know about it?"
"Right after we took Black Tower, things got weird. Time shifted. It was right after HellBorne died. Right after they implanted you with the Thullid egg. You were wounded and ran away. We tried to find you, but you jumped into some portal. Portal went weird after HellBorne died. And time kept changing. We'd wake up in a different year every day. We didn't know what time we were in. We kept getting sent to the past and future and we kept ending up at this tavern. Same tavern over and over again. And one day, as we were walking into the village, a bright light opened up in the clouds. A huge flying ship popped out of a portal and set fire to the village. Quaraun went mad with terror and ran to the tavern, looking for one of the bar maids. When he found her, she was dead, but underneath her, she been shielding a baby from the blaze and the baby was still alive. He took the baby with him and it was the strangest thing, but he became very defensive of the baby, very protective. It was out of character for him. Normally a Human baby, he'd have found another Human to take it, but this one... he wouldn't let any one near it. He went full on mother hen. But the baby was like a plague. Soon as we found it, we started having one bad thing after another happen. People started attacking us for no reason. Monsters and Demons would pop out of portals and try to kill us to get to the baby.
Lich Art Images Provided By Amazon
And then one day, a band of Human soldiers attacked, they wanted the baby. They accused us of taking it, we being to males, an Elf and a Faerie and the baby being Human. He wouldn't hand the baby over, so they tried to take it by force and he was sick, hurt, he couldn't fight back but he did anyways and then he was wounded, and, so he just held the baby to his chest and shielded it from them, while they lashed out at him, stabbing him with swords. I was newly regenerated so still weak and couldn't set foot in sunlight yet. I couldn't help him. They were gonna kill him. One soldier ran a sword through his side, another pinned him to the ground, driving a sword through his leg into the dirt. They were gonna take the baby one way or another. When he collapsed, he wouldn't let go of her. It became clear they were gonna kill him. I took the baby from him and gave it to them and they left. He was months recovering his injuries, and his leg never fully healed, that's why he limps. He spent months hunting down those soldiers trying to find that baby. I tried to get him to take other orphan babies, he would have nothing to do with it. It was just that one baby. It had to be that baby. No other. He was desperate to find her, but we never did and it broke his heart. And I never knew why. I didn't know she his baby. He never told me. It never occurred to me to think he might have been her father."
"She shouldn't exist," FarDarrig said. "And he knows it. He's talked to the Gremlin more often then he's told you. He went to the Gremlin to ask for help. After the solider took her. He thought, GhoulSpawn of the future would help him. He didn't know it was GhoulSpawn of the future, who'd sent the solders. People from all points of time and space are trying to find her and kill her and he knows that. If she had never been born, Ongadada would never happen."
"Ongadada?"
"He's seen more of the future then he's telling you. He's meet the Gremlin and he knows who the Gremlin is and why the Gremlin knows so much about about him, and why the Gremlin is trying so hard to undo the damage the portals have done. Blue skinned Elves from a future far away, came here to our time and razed her village. They killed every one just to get to her. And they did it on the Gremlin's orders..."
"Gremlin?" GhoulSpawn asked. "But he's me. He's me in the future."
"Yes. You, when you are very old. You become the Gremlin."
"You're saying, I'm the one... I gave the orders to kill his family?"
"Yes."
"Why would I do that? I abhor death, murder, war, and violence."
"Yes. I know. And that's why you do it. He's going to murder 30 billion people. And you return to his past to try to stop him."
"By killing his baby?"
"Yes. The poor tormented Elf. Through that one baby, now grown up, he's fathered hundreds more babies that should not exist. Each female he fathered in her, was brought to him soon as she was old enough to be bred. Each of their female children were bred by him as well. He's been trapped in that world more then seventy years, and a she-Elf grows ripe for breeding in only ten. The poor Elf. He swore he'd never follow in his family's generations long history of incest and he was forced to do it more then most. He was forced to breed against his will. The poor Elf. His mind's broken. Lost in depth so far away."
"He doesn't like sex with females."
"No. He doesn't. He wasn't given a choice. They tortured him when he refused to copulate with the females. The poor Elf, he's been tortured horrifically. But then they finally discovered that if they tortured the she-Elves in front of him, he would bred with them in order to end their suffering. He could withstand his own suffering, but he couldn't bear to watch others suffer. They broke him. He finally reached a point of it just being easier to fuck the female when they brought her to him, rather than have them torture her first. They've used him to bring back the Moon Elves, but they're different. He's no longer a Moon Elf. He's a Thullid. And the females were partly Human. They've created a monstrous hybrid race. They call themselves the Ratzins."
FarDarrg paused.
"I think.... I think you two need to talk to the Gremlin... ask him to explain. Quaraun's blocking his mind and I'm not seeing everything. Something the Gremlin told him... he's hiding it from me. He knows I'm reading his thoughts. Unicorn..."
FarDarrig turned to face the Phooka.
"Somethings wrong. I don't know what. There's more. But he's not letting me see it. It's terrifying."
"Ongadada is supposed the quite horrific..."
"No. Not that. His mind. It's terrifying.Looking into his mind. He has powers, I could not have imagined existed. The Thullids are right to fear and worship him. To call him a god. He is. He is exactly what they say he is. Ancient beyond imagining. The jelly fish that lives in him... it is the Elder Brain, and she's thousands of years old. Tens of thousands of years old. She existed long before our world did. I can see all her memories. For eons. The powers you've seen him display. Things you've seen him do... you call him, the world's most powerful wizard. People of the future, are coming back to the past desperately trying to stop this future war from happening... it's not a war... it's a massacre. A vast, massive, massacre. He's seen it. He's been there. The Gremlin took him there and showed him, what he's gonna do.... you have no idea what he's truly capable of... the powers you've seen... they are not even ice shavings off the tip of the iceberg. The Sacred Pink Jelly Fish, she truly is a god... and right now, she's terrified. She's trapped. Hiding away inside the skull of this Elf, terrified and ready to lash out. She's peaceful. She just wants to be left alone, but she's on edge. She's ready to attack. And she will. If she's pushed too far she will, and almost there right now. She'd teetering on the edge. Quaraun's been pushed too far. This last portal. The slave traders. The Elf breeders. They're all dead now. He slaughtered them in his escape. He's left a trail of blood to get back here. He's turned to cannibalism. He's been eating Elf brains. And he's been doing it for a while. Every one's always called him insane... he wasn't then, not before... but he is now. Quaraun's truly insane now and he's about to snap. I really don't want to be around when he does. I can see his memories. I can see the massacre he left behind, in the world he just left. I can see how far he went, to save her life and bring her back here. He's not the Quaraun you knew 7 days ago. That elf is dead. I don't think he's coming back. I don't think he can. He's been pushed too far. Way too far."
Volume 119: My Two Favorite People
Continued from "Zebulon's Captive"... This is the story told from BoomFuzzy's perspective and takes place at Black Tower...
It was a beautiful sunny, summer morning, when Quaraun's world turned very, very dark.
With the three wizards, Quaraun, BoomFuzzy, and GhoulSpawn now living together at Black Tower, life has become peaceful and quiet. BoomFuzzy free to cook to his heart's content, GhoulSpawn lost in reading his books, and Quaraun tending his ever growing rose garden...
One second everything was normal and then next, Quaraun vanished without a trace. Swallowed by a multi dimensional portal that swept away every Elf on the planet, from every where, all at once.
At first assuming their friend was whisked away into a portal, BoomFuzzy and GhoulSpawn try desperately to find Quaraun, but when they discover every Elf on the planet has gone missing, they know dark magic is a foot.
For 7 frantic days they try to find out what happened, and then, as suddenly as he vanished, Quaraun returned... his face scared beyond recognition, his hands burned to the bone, and his tongue cut out.
But time moves differently in different dimensions, and while for BoomFuzzy and GhoulSpawn only 7 days have gone by... each day here, was 10 years there for Quaraun, who has now aged by nearly a 100 years, is now married to his half-Elf daughter, and is no longer the gentle, peaceful, kind hearted, loving Elf they once knew.
Now crippled beyond any ability to function on his own, Quaraun is cared for by a pregnant near-feral half-Elf who viciously defends him and refuses to let either BoomFuzzy or GhoulSpawn near him.
Unable to discover what has happened to their beloved Moon Elf, BoomFuzzy and GhoulSpawn call on the help of GhoulSpawn's future self to find out what happened.
The Gremlin has nothing good to tell them, when he reveals that they are now on a count down to the Battle of Ongadada, which is less the 9 months away, and happen the day Quaraun watches his pregnant wife and unborn baby die.
The Rose Garden of Horrors
The Missing Elves
Lost and Found
The Sound of Silence
The Feral She-Elf
FarDarrig and The Baby That Never Should Have Been
The Gremlin
 |
|
|
|
On Writing The Quaraun Series
World-Building In Bizzaro Dark High Fantasy Yaoi
Weird-Building In Bizzaro Dark High Fantasy Yaoi
Building A Magic System In Bizzaro Dark High Fantasy Yaoi
- Wizards vs Witches vs Sorcerers: How are they different?
- Magic Systems and How to Build Them
- Necromancy: How will resurrection affect society as a whole?
- Spell-casting Side Effects of Magic
- Necromancy FAQ - A Real Necromancer Compares Fantasy Necromancy With The Reality
- Colour Magic - Gypsy Style
- Beware of White Men In Gypsy Clothing: Fake Psychic Scams
- Child Sacrifice in Fantasy Novels
Plotting & Writing Bizzaro Dark High Fantasy Yaoi
- Ernest Hemingway Style of Writing Literary Fiction Used In Epic Fantasy Novels
- Do you write a novel start-to-finish?
- Ideas, Ideas, Ideas (Where Do You Get Them?)
- Should I plan for ending or just keep writing?
- NaNoWriMo Overachievers: How did you do it?
- How Long is 50,000 Words?
- Why Write 50,000 Words In 30 Days?
- How long does it take to hit 1667 words?
- Average Typing Speed
Character Creation In Bizzaro Dark High Fantasy Yaoi
Writing Sex In Bizzaro Dark High Fantasy Yaoi
Disabled Characters In Bizzaro Dark High Fantasy Yaoi
Drug Use In Bizzaro Dark High Fantasy Yaoi
Horror In Bizzaro Dark High Fantasy Yaoi
This page was written by Wendy Christine Allen of 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine.
All Rights Reserved.
Note: there are likely spelling errors on this site, and I am unlikely to see the ... I fix them when I find them, but, there are many issues here...
Note: English is not my first language, Shetlean Scottish is my native language, there are likly spelling and grammar errors, as I do not know American English and am attempting to write it by sounding words out.
Many times that Americans think a word on my site is misspelled, often it is not misspelled, it is just I mixed up languages and wrote it in Scottish without realizing I mixed the Scottish in with the English. Also our grammar is somewhat reversed from English grammar so words that are seeming in the wrong order for American English, is usually because they are in the correct order for Scottish and I either put English words in Scottish order by mistake or was unaware English put them in a different order then Scottish does.
For those unaware, Scottish Shetlean looks like this:
American English to Scottish:
a bit (piece) = a party --- EXAMPLE: "And some know a bit of Latin " > "And somme kan of latyn a party "
a long distance from = A piece fae
a piece of = the bit --- EXAMPLE: "The duck ate a piece of bread " > "The deuk ett the bit breid "
about the banks (on the shore/at the beach) = aboot da banks
accomplishments = kunnandi
After = Back o --- EXAMPLE: " After Halloween" > "Back o Hallomas "
alive (living) = kvikr
Always on the move = Never aff o da go
am I not = amn't I --- EXAMPLE: "Am I not invited? " > "I amn't invited? or Amn't I invited?"
are = is --- EXAMPLE: "Are you going soon?" > "Is ya to be going soon?"
autumn = dah haihst
belong to = fylgja
best = bettah moost
betray (verb) = svíkja
bewildered = villhyggjandi
building = biggin up --- EXAMPLE: "building confidence in everyday use " > " biggin up confidence in ivvryday øs "
built = builded --- EXAMPLE: "He built a new porch." > "Hims builded a new porch."
cast a spell = hoodooed
cat = kat (sounds like "caught") --- EXAMPLE: "Is it an orange cat?" > "Be he a o'jinn kat?"
child = bairn
church = kirk
color = colour
danger = hœttr
daren't = darena
daring = djarfr
dark = dökk
dark elf = Dökkálfr
dark-elves = Døkkálfar
darker = dökká
do you agree = ,eh? --- EXAMPLE: "That's a fine looking woman, do you agree?" > "Dair's ah right bonnie lass, eh?"
do you want to come too = ,eh? --- EXAMPLE: "I'm going to the store, do you want to come with me?" > "Me go to shope, eh?"
each = eche --- EXAMPLE: "Which each person can understand " > "That kan eche man understonde "
educated = lered --- EXAMPLE: "Both among the educated and the uneducated " > "As wel among lered as lewed "
elf = Alfr
Elf = Álfr
Elf Home = Álfheimr
Elf World = Álfheimr
elf-advice = Ælfred
elf-beautiful = ælfscyne
elf-friend = Ælfwine
elf-guardian (female) = Ælfwaru
elf-guardian (male) = Ælfweard
elf-powerful = Ælfric
everyday = ivvryday
eyelids = eye ledes --- EXAMPLE: "He closed his eyelids." > "Hims did shut hims eye ledes"
fair = faire --- EXAMPLE: "Going to the fair." > "Done gone went to the faire."
feild = felde --- EXAMPLE: "Standing in the feild." > "Stoodt in thems felde."
further = ferther --- EXAMPLE: "I looked further." > "I dids lokid ferther."
green = grene --- EXAMPLE: "Look at the green hedges and woods." > "Look see at thems heigges and holtz so grene."
handsome = braw --- EXAMPLE: "He is very handsome " > "Him wicked braw "
have faith = trúa
Have no doubts about our doing it = Nae faer o wis
Have no liking for this. = Hae nae brou o this.
have not = ain't
He knows how many beans make five. = He kens the laid frae the croun o the causey.
He knows which side his bread is buttered on. = He kens whilk side his bannock's buttert on.
Head for = Mak wye for
head rope in fishing nets and lines = baak
head to head = Be at the knag and the widdie
horse fly = klegsie
I = Me
I Think = Me thinks --- EXAMPLE: "I think we're late. " > "Me thinks that we is late. "
I wish you well for the future = Lang may yer lum reek (translation: Long may your chimney smoke)
idiot = eejit --- EXAMPLE: "You idiot." > "Ya eejit."
idiot = numpty
if = iffy or yif--- EXAMPLE: "If you don't mind..." > "Iffy yas does no care mind...."; "If you'll stay with me long enough = "Yif ye so longe with me wil dwelle". "
I'll be even with you = A'll see day aboot wi ye
know = ken
looked = lokid
looked = lokid --- EXAMPLE: "I looked up." > "I lifte up me eye ledes and lokid ferther."
magic = hoodoo
naked = nøkkviðr
needle = bodkin
neither = nouther --- EXAMPLE: "Who know neither Latin nor French " > "That kan nouther latyn ne frensch "
No = Nay --- EXAMPLE: "No, I don't think so. " > "Nay, me thinks not. "
Nobody knew = not-knew nobody
Noontide = Da heicht o da day
NOTE: Extra words are often added. --- EXAMPLE: "Did you meet the new family next door?" > "Dids ya gets a chance to stop by and meets with thems new folk that move-ed in down yawn there next doors to ya, eh?"
NOTE: Extra words are often added. --- EXAMPLE: "He went to Rite-Aid to pick up his prescription" > "Hims did go to that yawn there new fangled store the new folks call that Rite Aid place, to gets himself some of thems there pills what the doctor gone and tells him to take each morning, a-yep, hims did."
old = olde --- EXAMPLE: "But educated and uneducated, old and young " > "Bot lered and lewed olde and yonge "
orange = o'jinn
out = oot --- EXAMPLE: "The cat wants to go out." > "The kat he do wants oot."
outside = oot dair
people = fokk --- EXAMPLE: "the people of Shetland " > "Shetland fokk "
people = folke --- EXAMPLE: "Look at all those people." > "Lookie at all thems folke."
poorly = febelly --- EXAMPLE: "Who know French very poorly " > "That kan frensch ful febelly "
Recognising = Recognisin --- EXAMPLE: "Recognising the bilingual nature of Shaetlan speakers " > "Recognisin da wye at Shaetlan spaekers is bilingual "
shield = skjoldr
Since = For --- EXAMPLE: "Since that is your native language " > "For that is youre kynde langage "
tell = telle --- EXAMPLE: "I'll tell you in English " > "In englysch tonge I schal you telle "
the = da, de, or is not used at all --- EXAMPLE: "I went to the store" > "Me goes to da shoppe" or "Me goes to da shoppe" or "Me goes to shoppe"
them = dem, dem dair --- EXAMPLE: "I went with them" > "Me goes wit dem dair"
there = dair --- EXAMPLE: "I want those potatoes" > "Me be wanting dem dair tatetas."
they = dey
To where = whither --- EXAMPLE: ""Where you go, I will go." " > ""Whither thou goest, I'll go."
understand = understonde
understand = understonden --- EXAMPLE: "Some understand English " > "And somme understonden englysch "
very = wicked --- EXAMPLE: "very good" > "wicked good"; "very bad" > "wicked bad"; "very cold" > "wicked cold"
Where = Whither --- EXAMPLE: "Where is the restroom? " > "Whither is the privy?"
Yes = Yea or Aye --- EXAMPLE: "Yes, I think so. " > "Yea, me thinks so. " or "Aye, me thinks so. "
For anyone actually interested in learning my native language, the Scottish government has THIS listed as the official dictionary of our people: https://static1.squarespace.com/static/61d7352954b7fd1c9dbdfef4/t/65ddb2749d5e0541a01009c0/1709027964496/Spaektionary_2024feb.pdf
The Scottish government provides this document to show our language in use: https://www.shetland.uhi.ac.uk/t4-media/one-web/uhi-shetland-images-and-documents/documents-/shaetlan/Shaetlan-Language-Plan-2022-Shaetlan.pdf
More information about our language can be found on this website: https://www.iheardee.com which is written in my native language.
However, there is also other reasons why words might be misspelled, or why I might not understand someone when they speak to me.
My grandmother Helen Ricker Allen, was from Unst, Shetland, Scotland, and she the one who raised me. She taught me to read and write, but it was Shetlain that she taught me. She died when I was 8 years old, and I was locked in a woodshed after her furneral, I escaped the woodshed 27 years later at age 31, and have been trying to learn how to speak and write English since then.
It is a very great struggle.
At age 37 I took remidial reading and speaking classes at Southern Maine Community College, but we are Gypsies and Gypsy men do not allow us Gypsy women to have education, and so, while at college, on November 14, 2013, I was beaten with a golf club, while I was 8 months pregnet, breaking my spine, hips, and knees, killing my baby and leaving me quardepaleic since.
Now my primary focus these past 13 years has been on relearning to use my hand so I could type... as of 2023, I have regained the use of my right thumb, and first two right fingers, and after 10 years offline, I am back online due to I can use three finguers.
I never went to school, so I do not know maths and numbers and sciences, and I do not know what else would have been taught to me in school. We are Scottish Gypsies and Gypsy culture does not allow females to go to school. Being born female was already a great sin, but my grandmother took great risk in teaching me reading and writing. At 4 years old I was punished by my Uncle Bruce for knowing how to read, by being beaten in the face with a cinder block brick, that broke my right jaw and left me with garbaled near-mute spoken words ever since.
Because no one ever spoke words to be face to face from he time I was 8 years old until I was 37 years old (I escaped the room at age 27, but did not start college until 37), I have no training in how to vocally sound out or speak the words I write or read. I can read words, but I do not know how to sound out or say those words. I can write words, but I do not know how to match the written word against the spoken word. I struggle to associate spoken words at all, or make them match up with writen words.
Esentially, written words and spoken words are two completly seperate languages in my brain, and I have difficulty understanding spoken words.
If you say a sentance to me with your mouth, chances are very high I will have ZERO understanding of what you said and I will not be able to ander you.
However, if you WRITE down that exact same sentabnce, I can understand you and can type a written responce to you.
My doctors tell me this is a side effect of extreme isolation and neglect and lack of human contact during my toddler, childhood, teen, and young adult years, and that my brain never deveoloped to comprehend spoken vocal words due to no one ever speaking to me in over three decades of the first half of my life.
While I can read and write, American English (somewhat) I do no know how words are sounded out, what they are supposed to sound like. I readand write by shape recognition, not by sound/vocal recognition, so when reading and writing I do no "hear the words in my head" as I am told most people do when they read and write. In other words... I see "c a t" and think "c-a-t" I do not think "cat" nor do I "see" an image of a cat, no do I "hear" the word cat spoken. I'm told that this is very rare and that most people read and write by sounding out the words and linking them to visual mind images, while hearing the sound of the word in their head. I neiher hear words in my head no see images of things in my head. I'm told this is what makes me both a speed reader and speed writer, because I'm not tripped up by hear sounds or seeing images in my head like nomal people would be doing... however, I'm also told this is why my spelling and grammar are very poor, because my brain is not hear the sounds of the words or seeing visual images of the objects the words represent, so my mind also does not register spelling and grammer errors at all.
As I was only let out of the woodshed on Sundays to go to the Cape Elezabeth Ward Church of the August Stake of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, I was never allowed to go to school or hospital either. No adults ever talked to me because I was evil for comitted the sin of being born female, so I never learned how to speak properly and do not know how to sound out words to say them.
I was 42 years old, in 2016 when, while having an MRI for my spine, the doctors found out my speak issue was caused by a broken jaw as a toddler that was healed wrong because not being allowed to go to doctors. I had surgury to fix that, and since 2016 have been trying to learn how to use my jaw and touge so I can speak vocal words now.
Since 2023 my primary focus shifted to relearning to walk. I can now, in 2026, sit up for 2 or 3 hours a day, and can sand with a cane for a few minutes, and can walk for around five thousand feet in 2 to 3 segments a day, with the help of pushing my wheelchair like a walker.
As of 2026, with a slight return to using my fingers and legs, I am once again focused on trying to learn the American English, but I live in mortal fear of my uncles and male cousins, as they are so hateful of allowing me to have education.
have no one to help me to know if I am doing words correctly, and as such, I have no way of knowing if there are spelling and grammar errors, but I asume there are, and I fix them when I learn them, but I do not know what I do not know and spelling American words is a thing I do bnot know.
I have Low Fucntioning Kanner's Syndrom, also known as "RainMan Type of Autism" aka REAL and ACTUAL Autism, not to be confused with Aspergers, High Functioning Autism, or and of thr 861 illnesses on the Autism Spectrum. An Autism Spectrum Disorder is an illness that has symptoms similar to Autism but IS NOT Autism. If you have an Autism Spectrum Disorder, it LITERALLY MEANS you do NOT have Autism.
I am medically diagnosed as "kanner's syndrome, actual autism, the rainman type, profoundly retarded autistic savant, with a general IQ of 73, and an writing IQ of 221" but they added that they did not know how to properly diagnose me as I am "technically a feral child" and they don't know "how much is the autism, and how much is simple horrific levels of abuse and neglect induced post traumatic stress disorder that will go away with proper socilization".
It means I know how to write, I can write a lot, and it is next to impossible for you to teach me how to do literally anythig else because my brain only knows how to write and doesn;t know how to do anything else..
There's a reason, when I do book signings, people are quick to say: "Okay, what's the joke? why is this stupid retard here? where's the real author? I know this retard isn't the author. where are you hiding the author, why is this fucking retard here"
The end result is, I have near zero social interaction... my 3 years in college was the ONLY face to face interaction I have ever had with humans in my entire life, and I struggle deeply to understand MOST words used by MOST people when they ask me question. And so I suffer from a huge lack of understanding many words people say to me, how to translate those words into spelling, and how to translate what it is that has been said.
The fact remains hat until there exists a human on this planet who is willing to sit down and teach me what words spoken line up with and match what words written, this deficent is unlily to improve. But the fact also remains, that I am simply far too profoundly retarded for anyone to even try to make any attempt at all even to speak a friendly "hgelloe" or "good morning" when passing me on the street, so I have lost all hope of anyone ever either being my friend, being willing to teach me how to match spoken words to written words, or how to speak to other humans.
While there are around 20k pages on this website, most of them are blocked from search engines, with only around 800 of them available for appearing in Google/Bing/etc search results. The remainder can only be accessed via the various links found throughout this site. This was done deliberately on my part, and I did it because the bulk of the pages on this website are chapters from 138 novels and 423 novellas, so only the first page of each novel and novella indexed by search engines, and the remainder are linked in order, one page at a time, via clicking "next page" at the end of each. So if you are looking for a specific page from a specific novel, Google can't help you.
|
Thank you for stopping by and have a nice day! ꧁✨🌸🔮🦄🔮🌸✨꧂ And if it’s your birthday today: ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐꧁ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ☆ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ꧂🤍🎀🧸🌷🍭 |
|
|
|
                              |
Get an email whenever Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻 publishes on Medium.
I also write on these locations: | Amazon | Ao3 | Blogger | GumRoad | Medium | Notd | OnlyFans | Tumblr | Vocal |
Do you know who drove this backhoe over my house at 146 Portland Avenue, Old Orchard Beach, Maine on August 8, 2013? If you have any information, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.
My house at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, July 4, 2013, photo taken because we had just finished building a baby room on the back. vs My house August 8, 2013, when the same group of people (yes group, the golf club woman was not alone when she attacked November 14, 2013, nor was she alone with her second attack July 2016.) who murdered my son on November 14, 2013 at Southern Maine Community College and crippled me July 26, 2016 at scarborough WalMart,... they arrived the first time with a backhoe on August 8, 2013, that they used to drive over my house, during a time of day that I normally was home asleep... I had to work a different shift at the Waffle Cone Pizza Food Truck at George's Parking Lot by Bill's Pizza at the OBB Peir, that day, otherwise, I too would be at the bottom of a landfill, along with my house and everything I owned that was also in the house. I was 5 months pregnant at the time and have been homeless for just under 14 years, homeless ever since....
... which means it is now only a few weeks from the 14th anniversary of my son's murder. I was 8 month pregnant November 14, 2013, and a student ay SMCC, and coming out of the Buglight Lighthouse art studio after art class, when a still unidentifiedwoman wielding a golf club attacked me, severed my spine, while I was 8 months pregnant, triggered early labour, then killed my son minutes after he was born.
While accusing me of being transgender, screaming "transvestite freak" and "look at that thing, that's Ken's son in a dress"... while I was 8 months pregnant.
|
My house at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, July 4, 2013, photo taken because we had just finished building a baby room on the back. vs My house August 8, 2013, when the same group of people (yes group, the golf club woman was not alone when she attacked November 14, 2013, nor was she alone with her second attack July 2016.) who murdered my son and crippled me, arrived the first time with a backhoe that they used to drive over my house, during a time of day that I normally was home asleep... I had to work a different shift at the Waffle Cone Pizza Food Truck at George's Parking Lot by Bill's Pizza at the OBB Peir, that day, otherwise, I too would be at the bottom of a landfill, along with my house and everything I owned that was also in the house. I was 5 months pregnant at the time and have been homeless for just under 14 years, homeless ever since. |
The backhoe driver returned November 14, 2013, armed with a golf club, used it to break my spine and smash my baby's brains out on the ground
On November 14, 2013, my son was murdered. I was 8 months pregnant, leaving my college classroom, and just getting into my car, when 3 strangers, a man and two women, armed with golf clubs leapt out from behind my car screaming "kill or be killed, kill the transvestite freaks, kill them all before they kill us! look at that thing! That is Ken's son, look at how it's dressed! kill the transvestite freaks! kill or be killed"... while the bald man and the red haired woman chanted this over and over, the blonde woman, lunged with the golf club.
She severed my spine, I am now a quadriplegic, and been paralyzed arms and legs, and in a wheelchair for 13 years now. She broke my hips, my knees, my legs, ruptured most of my discs, and shattered three of my vertebrae so bad that the shards of bone acted like glass and embedded themselves into my spinal column nerve bundle.
The attack also triggered labour.
My son was born in that parking lot, and he lived only a couple of minutes, before the deranged blonde woman, beat his head in and smashed his brains out, with the same golfclub she had just used to sever my spine and leave me crippled for the rest of my life.
Realizing that I was not transgender, and they'd just murdered a baby, the man grabbed the 2 women and forcibly dragged them away to a 4 door white pickup truck, and they left me there to die.
The FBI told me later, that a few weeks before this attack, and transwoman, had murdered a cis woman, in a parking lot, abou 20 miles away from where I was attacked. The FBI, believes that my attackers, had somehow found out I wrote transgender fiction, connecting my real name to my penname, (my father's name is in fact "Ken", and I do have a brother) and believed that I wrote transgender fiction, because I was myself transgender, even though I'm not transgender. The FBI, believes the attackers, thought I was my brother, pretending to be a woman.
The FBI investigation, into my son's murder, has dragged on for 13 years, and still now in 2026, continues on, with the FBI, still not having yet identified my attackers, and only guessing at what their motive was.
Thus we come to 2014, and the full swing change of the series I write. WHY my series, went from just a transman main character living life, to the full blown Mpreg genre series that it now is today.
Before the attack, I had a chance of having a baby. I don't know. And because I'm in America, I'm too old to adopt. You have to be under 45 years old to adopt a baby. That is the law in America. I was informed this, when we tried to adopt, now that my injuries leave me unable to get pregnant a 9th time.
Thus began my obsessively writing, my transman main character, pregnant. Always pregnant now. Every time. Every story. Stories that now fully focus on pregnancy, labour, miscarriages, babies dying, babies living, raising babies... the whole series, since 2014 has devolved into an outright baby obsession.
Meanwhile, reborn baby dolls were suggested to me by my therapist, and have also become a deeply obsessive part of my life. Because 13 years ago my son was murdered minutes after he was born, because a transphobic bigot mistook me for being transgender, I'm STILL in a wheelchair, struggling to relearn to use my arms and legs, now 13 years later, and I'm still DAILY dealing with police officers and FBI agents who while they are trying to find my son's killer, they are also daily reminding me... oh, yeah, my son was murdered, literally ripped out of my belly, by a transphobe. Who still has not been located and walks free to kill again.
|
The golfclub woman as she looked during the golf club attack at Southern Maine community college November 14, 2013. She is about 20 to 30 years older then me and would be around 75 to 85 years old now in 2026. If you have any information about the identity of this child murderer, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 |
The golfclub woman as she looked during the shopping cart attack at Scarborough WalMart July 26, 2016. She is about 20 to 30 years older then me and would be around 75 to 85 years old now in 2026. If you have any information about the identity of this child murderer, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 |
The 2nd woman as she looked at both attacks, her hair goes all the way down to her knees. She is about 20 to 30 years older then me and would be around 75 to 85 years old now in 2026.  If you have any information about the identity of this child murderer's accomplice, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 |
Do you know who these two woman who crippled me and murdered my baby, at Southern Maine Community College at 10PM on November 14, 2013, are, and what their connection to the backhoe that drove over my house is? If you have any information, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.
I am a legally blind quadriplegic, and low verbal, I have also published 138 novels in the last 48 years. It's not as impossible as people think. The problem being blind and quadriplegic, medically have different meanings then how those two words are used medically.
Fewer than 3% of all blind people see nothing. While 97% people who are classified as fully blind are able to see up to two feet in front of them. Legally blind means I can see more then two feet in front of me but not far enough to see twenty feet in front of me. In my case I can see about eight feet.
Quadriplegic, has varying levels, it means having a damaged nerve bundle in the spinal column causing limited mobility of all 4 limbs, (in my case this was done by a women wielding a golf club, who also beat my 8 month infant's head to pulp on the parking lot tarmak, at the same time she severed my spine with the same golf club; both on November 14, 2013; the FBI investigation into my son's murder and my being crippled has gone on now for 13 years, a few weeks away from 14 years now, and the FBI has still not identified the killer or her motive). Contrary to popular misconception, quadriplegic does NOT mean ZERO movement, it means means limited movement, specifically in means unable to lift arms over head, unable to grip fingers around objects to pick them up, and unable to stand for more then 5 minutes to a time. Because there are so many thousands of nerves in each limb it is actually very rare for there to be 100% no movement, but how much, and to what extent varies by patent depending upon the specific point of injury to the spinal column.
Meaning typing is still possible for over 60% of all quadriplegics.
In my case, it was the lower spine that was severed, cutting off completly my ability to move my right leg, leaving limited feeling in my left leg, and an ability to stand but not walk, with crutches, for the first 9 years. I regained enough nerve growth in my legs by the 9th year to be able to take ten or twelve steps allowing me to get out of bed for the first time since the golf club attack; This in turn lead to me being able to start using a wheelchair, as I was able to sit upright for the first time as well.
Because the shattered vertebrae bone fragments are broken off completly and embedded into the nerve bundle just above my tailbone, doctors were saying I would never walk again, but now at 13 years, I am able to push mu wheelchair like a walker, a distance of almost a thousand steps a day. Though doctors are still doubtful I will ever walk "normally" again, I have proven them wrong, when their said 13 years ago, that I would never walk again at all.
But because of the placement of the damage to my spine, regaining hand use, was always thought possible, it was just a matter of waiting long enough for nerve regrowth, along side daily finger exercises. I was able to continue writing, after becoming quadriplegic, because I still have use of my right thumb, and 2 fore figures of my right hand. And can type 90 words per minute with those 3 fingers.
I however have no wrist strength, elbow strength, or shoulder strength, so I am not able to form a fist, or lift objects, or brush my hair, or my teeth, all thing I have to have my caretaker do. But, those things are not needed for typing. Unfortunately, my pinky and ring fingers are "nerve dead" and drag over the keyboard, and cause horrific spelling errors and typos, which are incredibly frustrating to deal with.
Unfortunately trying to edit errors myself, just makes the errors worse, because those same two fingers drag over the keyboard yet again. Prior to the golf club attack, I rarely had spelling errors; now I got more spelling errors then someone is learning English as second language. Editing is a challenge, that I've had to accept, I simply can not do myself, and I have to hire several editors to help with that.
Low verbal means sounds can still be made, sounds that software programs like Dragon can be trained to recognize and translate, and type into full words. More then half my novels were typed with this method.
I still have a long ways to go before I am anything close to being able to do the things I could do before the golf club woman beat my baby's brains out and shattered my spine. And you know what's more frustrating then how slow mu medical progression has been? The fact that it's been 13 years and the police and FBI are still coming up at dead ends as to who the woman who murdered my baby was, or why she even did it.
My son's 14th birthday is only a few weeks away, but he didn't even get to live long enough to celebrate his 1st birthday, I don't even know why. And I can't wait to regain my ability to walk again, because regaining my ability to walk, means gaining the ability to go outside and start looking for my son's murderer myself instead of sitting at home trapped in a wheelchair waiting for the police and FBI to to find her. So, writing isn't a big priority for me anymore. I only write now, as a way to exercise my hands, in between relearning to walk.
Never let a disability stop you. Plenty of writers, artists, athletes, do not let either blindness, speech impediments, or limited mobility hold then back from perusing their careers.
Do you know who these two woman who crippled me and murdered my baby, at Southern Maine Community College at 10PM on November 14, 2013, are, and what their connection to the backhoe that drove over my house is? If you have any information, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.
Important:
Fraudulent sites are impersonating Wendy Christine Allen.
- The ONLY official website for Wendy Christine Allen is www.eelkat.com
Fraudulent social media accounts, particularly on Reddit and FaceBook are impersonating Wendy Christine Allen.
- The ONLY official social media accounts for Wendy Christine Allen are listed in the footer here at www.eelkat.com
Find Me on Social Media:
Any websites and accounts you find online that are NOT on this list are NOT Wendy Christine Allen
There are no ebook editions as they are already available digitally here on my website.
If you encounter a page which asks for a password, no, you can not request access. There are over 2k pages of this website set to password access, due to the ongoing FBI investigation into my son's murder. If you are a police officer authorized access these pages but do not have the passwords, let me know, I will deliver the passwords to the specific pages you are allowed to access, to you via the Portland FBI office and you can pick them up from the FBI agent in charge of the murder investigation.
Pages where you can find out more information on that:
|
What's New (Newly Published or Recently Updated or Edited)
IMPORTANT NOTE: There are no ebook editions as they are already available digitally here on my website.
If you are one of (as of December 2025, the now more than ten thousand) daily visitors, who arrive here daily in search of SEO advice, I made this page for you:
The Park Bench Method of Writing
Crazy Woman Just Attacked - No Clue Why or Who She Is
Articles For Writers on How To Write & Publish A Rapid Release Series
For Anyone Looking for:My response to MUFON's Amphibious Aliens? My response to Coast to Coast AMs Arrival in my yard?
Wendy Christine Allen, Old Orchard Beach's Autistic Author, Artist, Illustrator, & Art Car Designer Counting Down to the 2028 50th Anniversary of my first published book (September 23, 1978) Yes, I am aware there are a lot of spelling errors on this site. No, I likely will not be fixing most of them. I have been quadriplegia/paralyzed arms and legs since November 14, 2013; As of 2026, I have regained use of two fully functional fingers on my right hand, and only stiff limited movement of all remained eight fingers. This causes most of the typos and spelling errors as my near-dead pinky and ring fingers tend to drag over the other letters on the keyboard. Attempts to correct errors, often causes more errors for the same reason. Much of my writing is also speech to text, but I have "profound low functioning, non-verbal kanner's syndrome aka autism aka the rainman type" (that is what the medical diagnosis called it), I have the medically diagnosed retarded type of autism, that medical doctors mean when they say "real and actual autism", I do not have the cool trend self diagnoses tiktok type of "autism". What this means is, in spite of five decades of trying, I have very limited vocal speaking abilities and a lower then average vocabulary, that leaves my speaking ability around the level of a 4 or 5 year old child; I do not know math or money or clocks and. I also, was raised by a Shetland Scottish Grandmother (Helen Ricker Allen) until her death when I was 8 years old, and she did not speak American, she spoke Shetland/Scottish, Shetlandic, which is a Nordic language, different from Scotts Language, not related to Gaelic which is what many Scottish speak, and while classified as a type of Scottish English is is considered "Olde medieval Norse" dialect of Scottish English and spoken by fewer then two thousand people as of 2026. It is the language of Scottish Travelling Gypsies, which is what we racial are. I was 31 years old first time I ever heard American English, and only started to learn American English at 42 years old. Right now in 2026 at 51 years old, I am able to speak American English on around the level of an 8 year old child, and greatly do not understand over 90% of American words, American slang, and American media references. What this means is, OFTEN words you think are spellt wrong (like color vs colour, or traveling vs travelling, are in fact NOT spelt wrong, because I use Scottish spellings) and often when I hear an American word, I spell it phonetically because I do not know the correct American spelling. Likewise we Scottish do not have words like my or your, and so say me and you, in places where Americans would say my and your. I also use Scottish word meanings, not American word meanings, for example Unicorn means a blood thirsty flesheating shapeshifting sea creature that comes on land and pretends to be a wounded horse to lure in humans to eat, it can only be captured by a virgin. But when I say Unicorn, a word I frequently use, because I write Unicorn folkloric short stories... I find that most Americans connect Unicorns to children's cartoons, gay pride, or swinging sex lives... I struggle to understand who in their right mind thought the most bloodthirsty monster of Scotland folklore was good fodder for children's cartoons or "sex positive" mascots, me thinks Americans need to brush up on the lore of Unicorns using their horns as sword to stabbed people's eyes out, while gallopping through swamps with rows of bloody Human heads hanging from their backs via braids made of Human entrails... really, why did Americans thinks a monster like a Unicorn was fit for children's cartoons or sex positivity? Americans is weird. All this to say... speech to text software, struggles badly with my thick Shetland accent, my slurred Autism speech impediment, and causes additional misspellings and typos because it can not figure out what words I am trying to say. And while I could take the time time to run all of it through a spell checker, that does require better hand mobility then I have, to copy the text from one program to the next and manually click each word, with finger mobility that I simply do not have, but also, most of my time is spent in trying to relearn to walk, and if you are local, you've probably seen this as I'm a stubborn bitch who refused to accept the doctor disnosis that I will never walk again, so, I walk around the block every day pushing my wheelchair, refusing to sit in my wheelchair, and... ...it's taking me 13 years to do it, but, I'm not actually able to stand up and make it all the way around the block now, and my focus on trying to relearn to walk is far more important to me, then catering to your pampered arse by fixing spelling errors, when there are far bigger problems to worry about in life, the spelling errors made by a quadriplegic who is typing this with her only two functioning fingers. Also, in recent years, I've watched the internet devolve into a mindless clusterfuck of ChatGPT written everything. Everyone sounds the same online these days, because no writes their own work anymore. Every website out there has become a carbon copy of each other, because they are all be written by ChatGPT now. I think ChatGPT makes a funny thing to chat with in your spare time, so you can laugh at the hilarity of how inaccurate it's responses are... but I am horrified that people are using AI for serious writing, writing they publish and try to pass off as their own. We live in a society where people people are forgetting how write. Heck I can read and write cursive, calligraphy, italic, short hand, and editor's marks, also edit my books by hand diagraming every sentence, and that... start walking around your neighbourhood and ask anyone under 30 if they sentence diagraming IS, let alone how to do it. So yes, I CAN spell check, and no I don't, for anything but my novels and short story collections, I spell check when it matters... and this is a website, not a printed book... but also, I am just getting so damn fucking fed up with endless AI writing online, so, no, I'm not going to fix errors and typos on my website, and you can bitch about that all you want (yes, I do get your messages, I just don't answer anyone in private) but, honey, maybe instead of bitching over my spelling errors, be thankful is still at least one website on the internet that still being written by a Human now in 2026 when ChatGPT writes over 70% of all posts online. |
Looking for my annual NaNoWriMo Prompts and Dares? I've been publishing these every year since 2004!
 The Park Bench Method of Writing The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane: Paperpacks & Hardcover Editions on Amazon:
Not sure what the series is about? Check out and Faeries vs Elves (In The Quaraun Series) A Pink Necromancer World Lore Post and Worldbuilding MoonQuakes and Disabled Characters for Fantasy Writers and How well do I know Quaraun? - Let's find out! to find out more about the plot and lore of the series. Not sure which story to start with? These here are good places to start, to get a good introduction to the three main characters:
Or if after reading those, you still are looking for more free to read stories, there are over three thousand of them on this site, too many to list here, but here a few dozen to get you started... ...you can just jump in and try reading some of the free to read online stories first before committing to buying the books:
Hmmm... soooo... I was making the above list to ALL the links to EVERY Quaraun story published on my website here, and adding it into the footer of my site, here as you can see, which loads on every page, and then I realized... wait... there are over two thousand Pink Necromancer stories up free to read on my website, I can't put two thousand links on every single page! Whoops! LOL! So, now I'm putting list to ALL the links to EVERY Quaraun story published on my website here on this page instead and just link that page to the footer instead. But also I'll just leave some of the links in the footer, as you can see above.
|
This page was written by Wendy Christine Allen of 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine.
All Rights Reserved.
The Space Dock 13 WebRing
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Yes, this website (founded in 1996) is old enough to have WebRings on it, and they are still in use.
Don't know what a WebRing is?
They were how we webmasters used to get traffic to our websites before the invention of search engines (aka before Jeeves, DogPile, Yahoo. Google, Bing, or the rest existed). In their simplest form a WebRing is an html code that rotates link displays. In their more advanced form they are java scripts that give random results. Each ring had three active links titled "Previous", "Random", and "Next", clicking any of the 3 links would take you to the next website in the ring.
Web Rings are the REASON the internet was called "the world wide web". To use them, each webmaster submitted their site to the ring, a single code held 100 websites, and codes could be stacked to hold 100 code sets (or 10,000 links to 10,000 websites), each web master in the list, would then place the code in the footer of their website.
This created the SPIDER WEB that was the literal WEB OF LINKS that gave the internet it's name "World Wide Web" and is WHY websites are CALLED "web sites". And technically, your site is not a WEB site unless it is connected to a WEBRing, likewise you technically are not a WEBMaster if you do not build WEBrings links for you WEBsite to connect to the WEB.
Unfortunately, most knowledge of WebRings, and whi sites were called WEBsites and sites on the WEB were called the World Wide Web, vanished from the internet in 2014 when the official WebRing.org company who managed 90%+ of the internet's WebRings went out of business after the infamous Google Panda 2013 bot attack that delisted ALL websites from the Google Index if they contained a WebRing of links to other websites in it's footer.
And while most sites abandoned the use of WebRing Codes on their sites, Space Dock 13 did not. The Space Dock 13 WebRing remains active, now 28 years after it's creation. Over the decades however, one by one all the other websites in the ring have gone off line, and as they did, I replaced the url with a link to a page of my own website (as this is a java code - it updated on every website without the others needing to change anything). Today in 2026, eelkat.com is the last remaining website in the ring, and now all 10k links go only to pages on eelkat.com, no longer sending you to other websites.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Park Bench Method of Writing
IMPORTANT NOTE:
There are no ebook editions as they are already available digitally here on my website.
Want even more writing prompts?
Do you have information about my son's murder and need the FBI contact information:
If you have any information about my son’s murderer, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322
If anyone contacts you saying 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, is for sale, know that they are lying to you... it is my land, and it has been in my family since 1531... and the ONLY person whom has EVER gone around saying it is for sale, is a woman who the FBI believes to be the same woman who murdered my son.
My son is buried here, and the FBI believes she is trying to buy my land in order to destroy his grave and destroy evidence of his murder.
Since my son's murder November 14, 2013, every year dozens of real estate agent show up all with a story of a female developer who is offering them MILLIONS of dollars for my lot of land that is only 1/4 of an acre and is not big enough to develop.
When shown police sketches of my son's murderer, the real estate agents say "Yes, that's the woman who hired me to buy 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine", but then the woman disappears and the real estate agents never hear from her again... all contact information she gave them turns out to be fake.
The woman who murdered my son, is DESPERATELY trying to buy 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine... this is the woman to watch out for... and this is what she did:
Looking to find out more about my son's murder, that information is on these pages:
Answering the questions:
Can you give me links to the news reports of your son's murder?
and
Why can't I find any news reports about this?
Maine has well over a thousand murder cases that have never been in the news.
I found this out after my son was murdered November 2013, and a year later I found out it had never been in the news, even though I was hounded for weeks by news people. I went to each of the over a dozen TV stations and newspapers whom had showed up at the hospital and asked why they had never published any report after all the trouble they had gone through to (in some cases illegally) het into the hospital to interview me.
in every case they said some version of "well, it just wasn't news worthy, there was nothing we could use to get views". Really? These were big news stations, channel 13, 6, 8, Portland Press Herald, Bangor Daily...
What exactly was it they claimed was "not news worthy"?
I'll tell you.
On November 14, 2013, my son was murdered. At Southern Maine Community College in the parking lot of The Buglight Art Studio beside the Spring Point Lighthouse.
I was 8 months pregnant, leaving my college classroom, and just getting into my car, when 3 strangers, a man and two women, armed with golf clubs leapt out from behind my car screaming "kill or be killed, kill the transvestite freaks, kill them all before they kill us! look at that thing! That is Ken's son, look at how it's dressed! kill the transvestite freaks! kill or be killed"... while the bald man and the red haired woman chanted this over and over, the blonde woman, lunged with the golf club.
She severed my spine, I am now a quadriplegic, and been paralyzed arms and legs, and in a wheelchair for 13 years now. She broke my hips, my knees, my legs, ruptured most of my discs, and shattered three of my vertebrae so bad that the shards of bone acted like glass and embedded themselves into my spinal column nerve bundle.
The attack also triggered labour.
My son was born in that parking lot, and he lived only a couple of minutes, before the deranged blonde woman, beat his head in and smashed his brains out, with the same golfclub she had just used to sever my spine and leave me crippled for the rest of my life.
Realizing that I was not transgender, and they'd just murdered a baby, the man grabbed the 2 women and forcibly dragged them away to a 4 door white pickup truck, and they left me there to die.
The FBI told me later, that a few weeks before this attack, and transwoman, had murdered a cis woman, in a parking lot, abou 20 miles away from where I was attacked. The FBI, believes that my attackers, had somehow found out I wrote transgender fiction, connecting my real name to my penname, (my father's name is in fact "Ken", and I do have a brother) and believed that I wrote transgender fiction, because I was myself transgender, even though I'm not transgender. The FBI, believes the attackers, thought I was my brother, pretending to be a woman.
The FBI investigation, into my son's murder, has dragged on for 13 years, and still now in 2026, continues on, with the FBI, still not having yet identified my attackers, and only guessing at what their motive was.
Oh yeah, and I've been quadriplegic for 13 years.
oh yeah one more thing, same trio, they also found out where i lived in Old Orchard Beach and drove a backhoe over my house as well.
|
146 Portland Ave Old Orchard Beach, Maine... July 4, 2013 vs August 8, 2013 |
I have been homeless and quadriplegic for 13 years, and right now it's just a few weeks away from both my son's 14th birthday and the 14th anniversary of the day he was murdered, both of which happened the same day.
Explain to me what about any of that is "not newsworthy"?
I did find out WHY it was deemed not newsworthy. "it would negatively impact tourism" was their reason. The College at Fort Prebble is a tourist destination. The lighthouse at the college is a tourist destination. My house on Portland ave is situated on the primary road to the beach that is a tourist destination.
The news reporters explained to me that, they risked losing their jobs if they publicised "negative news" occurring in these sorts of tourist destination spots.
My son's murder wasn't in the news, because it might cause tourists to stop visiting that lighthouse. That was the reason the reporters gave me.
How often are there things not being reported on just so businesses don't lose tourist money?
How often does this happen? A lot, I've since found out. In trying to find other mothers of murdered children to interact with... I found five others JUST in Old Orchard Beach, whom the murders were not in the news, and all of them happened after my son's murder. I found 2 such mothers in Scarbourogh, their children's murders not in the news. I found over a dozen more in the Bar Harbore area, also all not in the news.
It's a very disturbing trend here in Maine, one that I never would have found out about had my own son not been murdered.
One thing's very clear: in Maine you can get away with murdering a child, if you do it in a big tourist location, because news stations REFUSE to report any crime occurring in tourist locations.
Fuck torists.
I don't give a shit about your precious tourist money.
My son was murdered and I want his killer found... and I am VERY displeased with the deplorable way news stations try to bury child murders in Maine, just to appease tourist funded businesses.
And if you're one of those lunatic jackass bullshitting alien abduction UFO freaks, looking for haunted cars, Stephen King, cryptids, or EBEs, first off, you can go fuck yourselves. I am so damned sick of you conspiracy brained motherfuckers harassing my family and turning my son's murder case into a circus of you psycho deranged bullshit. Here's some pages for you:
Copyright © – oldest articles written 1978, website founded - 1996
This website is a safe zone for LGBTQAI+, pagans, and BIOPIC communities.
This website is a safe zone for LGBTQAI+, pagans, polys, trans, neurodivergent, disabled, mobile aid user, minority, cosplayers, otherkin, furries, & BIOPIC communities.