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

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If you want some stories to get you started in The Pink Necromancer series, reading these first will give you a good introduction to the 3 main characters:
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My Elves Are JellyFish...and I asked Google AI and ChatGPT 5.6 what they thought of this.
As requested, my daily writing prompt series is now available print paperback editions on Amazon.
There are 20 volumes of this writing prompt series currently planned and in varying stages of finishing, hopefully all 20 will be published by the end of 2026. I likely will do a 2nd series of writing prompt books in 2027.
The first of the Visual Novels/Video Games for The Adventures of Quaraun the Inane/The Pink Necromancer series is published and available on Itch.io, there are 3 more planned for release in 2026, 6 more planned for release in 2027, and the big 60-hour 80k word 150 page one (Quaraun Goes To the Fair) is planned for a 2028 release.
There is a Pink Necromancer card game and a Pink Necromancer board game, as well as a Pink Necromancer table top RPG supliment for Dungeons and Dragons, all in the works, and to be released over the next couple of years as well.
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Update Sept 3, 2026:
I am able to get around enough to take Koko to dog park... today is 29 days since getting out of hospital. My diet is still mostly liquid, but im eating some solid food again, but its like rice or soft mushy baby food type stuff because I still can not chew yet, though I can swallow again. My jaw is still not functioning good so im having trouble talking still. So there's been slight improvement to my mouth, throat, and jaw, but, zero improvement to my eye, which is a major concern, be Im almost fully blind right now. im legally blind since birth in my left eye, so I have no ability to fall back on using my left eye. My right eye is the one injured and my vision in it is "40% decreased" according to my doctor, but it wasn't good vision to begin with, and right now my right eye is not much different from my legally blind left eye. Which I why I have to have someone drive my car for me instead of me driving my car myself right now, which is very frustrating, because, being a female, I had to fight for over twenty years to be allowed to drive. I started sneaking out at age 31 and dressing as a man to go to Old Orchard Beach high school to get a ged, because us females are not allowed to go to school. And i was 37 years old when snuck out to the DMV and got a driver's permit and started going to college. I was 42 and 8 months pregnant when my family found out I was going to college and thats when I was punished by the backhoe driving over my house and my spine broken with a golf club and my baby born right then and killed with same golf club. So it's very frustrating now, so soon after finally being able to drive , to now not be able to drive because of an eye injury, especially after 14 years of being paralyzed from the golf club and not being allowed to have a wheelchair, again, because i am female and we females are simply not allowed to do anything. I hate the culture I was born into. I wish I had the freedom to go to school and drive a car the way American women do. I wish having my spine broken with a golf club and my baby killed with a golf club and a backhoe driven over my house was not how men in my family punishment women in my family for learning to read and write. Its so frustrating not being able to to drive again, so soon after 14 years being paralyzed, and being paralyzed by the golf club was the punishment for getting a driver's license back in 2013 after 30 years of men not letting me have one. I hate my family's culture and how they treat us women.
I get so sick of Americans telling me how they wish they could be a Gypsy… they are either misogynist woman hating pigs, or delusional idiots who haven't got a clue how shittily we Gypsy women are treated by Gypsy men, because no one in their righ mind who knows anything about Gypsy culture would ever want to be part of it. I hate that I was born a Gypsy.
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update sept 7, 2026
"You would not make a good teacher"... what does that mean, and why are there so many people on Railroad Ave and Western Ave and Cutts St why walk up to me and say that to me?
I find it very confusing. I have low functioning Autism (the Rain Man type) and so i have very little understanding of words beyond the basic ones, and i never went to to school, so I never learned maths or sciences, and I only had remedial classes at Southern Maine Community College, because I did not have an education to enroll with regular, I was there taking every reading and writing class they had to learn how to read and write, and also took speaking classes to learn how to talk (i spoke Shetland Scottish language because that was language my grandmother spoke but she died when I was 8 so I only knew that language to speak and write, and I was 37 when I went to college and 42 when I learned English speaking and I still cant speak English good yet), all the other classes I took were art painting and cooking.
So the phrase "You would not make a good teacher" makes no sense to me because it seems to imply that I am trying to be a teacher, but I don't have anything close to the education ti be a teacher, and im not trying to be a teacher. So I don't know why people keep saying this phrase to me and I assume it must have some sort of a slang meaning, but I can't figure out what it could be of why do these people keep saying it to me.
see video below for more information:
@eelkat "You would not make a good teacher"... what does that mean, and why are there so many people on Railroad Ave and Western Ave and Cutts St why walk up to me and say that to me? I find it very confusing. I have low functioning Autism (the Rain Man type) and so i have very little understanding of words beyond the basic ones, and i never went to to school, so I never learned maths or sciences, and I only had remedial classes at Southern Maine Community College, because I did not have an education to enroll with regular, I was there taking every reading and writing class they had to learn how to read and write, and also took speaking classes to learn how to talk (i spoke Shetland Scottish language because that was language my grandmother spoke but she died when I was 8 so I only knew that language to speak and write, and I was 37 when I went to college and 42 when I learned English speaking and I still cant speak English good yet), all the other classes I took were art painting and cooking. So the phrase "You would not make a good teacher" makes no sense to me because it seems to imply that I am trying to be a teacher, but I don't have anything close to the education ti be a teacher, and im not trying to be a teacher. So I don't know why people keep saying this phrase to me and I assume it must have some sort of a slang meaning, but I can't figure out what it could be of why do these people keep saying it to me. #mainelife #biddefordmaine #maine #disabilitytiktok #Biddeford ♬ original sound Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author
update Sept 15, 2026:
I have some slight movement in some my fingers again again after over a decade being paralyzed
you remember how I used to be a professional doll making, pattern designer, and embroiderer, back before I became paralized and before my son was murdered and being the backhoe drove over my house?
all my equipment, sewing machines, ect were all destroyed by the backhoe driving over my house, and I have been quardepelegic for over a decade because of it so could not use my hands to sew or draw or embroider, and so only continued to do my writing of novels since then because I could do that with dragon dictation software,
well, since 2016, I been playing Witcher 3 and don't starve video games on twitch livestream, one hand two fingers, as part of my therapy to regain nerve and muscle use of my fingers, and now after 10 years of that, I have somewhat more movement in my fingers and im thinking maybe I can try to do embroidery and doll making again, but not sure, anyways, now im rebuying all of my sewing and embroidery equipment that the backhoe destroyed when it drove over my house, and hopefully I can use my hand enough to embroider again.
waiting for stuff to arrive in mail, so soon I should find out if ten years of twitch gaming has given me enough muscle strength to use my fingers to embroider again.
update to the previous video, answering viewer question about lack of hospital vs broken spine
Wheelchair Fundraiser... I need to upgrade to a power wheelchair, the manual one just isn't enough anymore. But the power wheelchair is $25k. Yes, twenty five thousand dollars. Wtf? I can get a car for a quarter that price, why are wheelchairs so damned expensive? That's more money then I make in five years, so I need to start a fundraiser for it.

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

The Summoner of Darkness is
an Epic Length Novel of more than 300,000 words
(500+ paperback pages)
This chapter is...
Word count: 3,485
or
11 paperback pages.

<<< Previous Chapter: The Oozing Plate Of Sugar Cookies Bludgeoned By The Courageous Alien Being Chased By A Bloodthirsty Crazed Celebrity Chef
~o0o~ Chapter 81 ~o0o~
"All things bend to help that man," a barmaid muttered as she brought Quaraun another bottle of Faerie Wine.
"Mallac?" the Elf asked.
"Yep."
"What's with him, anyways?"
"Coward of a soldier," the barmaid said. "Got stationed to guard duty of this no account village. You know, us hicks out here in the sticks, where he can't embarrass his commanding officers. Gave him a big head though. This job is punishment duty and everyone knows it, except Mallac. Mallac and his pack of cowards. If any one ever stood up to him, he'd turn tail and run. Every last one of them would. It's why they are not out on the battle front fighting the war. Tough bunch of bullies they are here in town, but you challenge any of them and they just turn tail and run away with their tails between their legs."
"Really?"
"Yeah. All bark and no bite. That's why they can't solve the murders. Mallac ain't got the guts to face a murderer. All he knows how to do is be a big fat bully, pushing little people around. The smaller they are the bigger of a bully it makes him feel. It's why he singled you out, you're being a little guy and al. No offence."
"None taken."
"I really think that's why he picked you. You know. Because you're well..."
"Short?"
"Yeah. He always picks on little guys, like you and your friend there. Thinks cause he's bigger, that it gives him the right to push others around."
"I grew up with people like him. I know how to deal with bullies. I'm thinking, Mallac could do with having someone stand up to him."
"Ha! That'll be the day."
"You find that thought funny?"
"No one's ever gonna stand up to Mallac. Whole towns scared of him. Most people round here are more scared of Mallac then they are those half-Elves up in the old lighthouse."
"HellBorne?"
"Yeah. Him. Ha ha! Silly old man. He thinks he's a wizard."
"Is he not?"
"No! Of course not. He's more of a Witch. You know uses potions and stuff. He used to help people in the village, before he lost his arm."
"How'd that happen?"
"Don't know. He got beat up. Never was sure if it was an Elf or a Human what did it. Either way he's hated both Elves and Humans ever since. Locked himself up in that tower, never comes down to the village any more.None of them do, except GhoulSpawn and he ain't lived with them long. He doesn't really fit in with them. I got the impression he's sort of a drifter and won't be staying long."
"You know GhoulSpawn."
The girl giggled.
"You've slept with GhoulSpawn."
"Who in this town hasn't?"
"Good point. He does does seem to have a way with women."
"Did you know him? I see him talking to you a lot."
"We've meet a few time. I was injured by some soldier a year ago and he was in the area, saw what happened. Took me in. Took care of me until I was able to travel again. Then we crossed paths again. Got caught in a storm, ended up seeking shelter in the same place. Then I ran into him again here. He seems to have a strange habit of showing up whenever I'm in trouble and need help."
"Mallac's been saying you gonna solve these murders. Are you?"
"Solve them? Eh. There's not much to solve."
"What do you mean?"
"It's pretty obvious what's going on."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"You know who's doing the murders then?"
"More or less."
"Are you gonna tell Mallac?"
"I've tried to already. He doesn't seem to listen to me. I'm just an Elf, after all."
"Yeah, that's Mallac for you. Soldier ain't got the guts to go to war, gets stuck with guarding a village miles from the war. He thinks it's a great honour and now he bosses the whole town around..."

"You sound like you don't like living in this town."
"I don't."
"Why do you stay?"
"Travel costs money."
"What would you do if you had the money?"
"Head West. Go to the city. Get a real job. Work in a mercantile."
Quaraun took the girl's hand and with placed 10 gold coins in her palm.
"You go do that. Leave tonight. Follow your dreams."
The girl stared at the coins dumbfounded.
"I can't take this," she finally said.
"Yes, you can."
"But..."
"I don't need it. You'll make better use of it then I will. All I'll do is drink it away in taverns."
"But..."
"I have plenty more. Go."
The girl left the table.
Elwin, who had been sitting beside Quaraun, climbed up on his lap, hugging the Elf's neck.
"What it wid ya un children?" Unicorn asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Kids always like ya."
"I like children."
"I hate being Human," Elwin said. "What's it's like not being a Human?"
"You're not all Human. Your mother was an Elf."
"No one likes half-Elves."
"So I've been told. Don't suppose you know why there are no children in this town, do you?"
"There used to be."
"And now they're gone?"
The boy nodded.
"And you're the last one."
The boy nodded again.
"So you've lost your family and your friends."
"I didn't have no friends."
"No?"
The boy shook his head.
"Why not?"
"I'm a half-Elf. I'm not allowed to have friends."
"So yang," Unicorn said. "Already him know prejudice."
"He grew up in a Human village, with white Americans, no less. What else would you expect? I've never meet a white American Human yet who had a kind or decent bone in their body. All they know how to do is bully every one who is not them and kill those that don't fall into submission. Getting Elwin out of Humans hands may well be the best thing for him."
"We is taking the boy wid us?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"His family was murdered. He doesn't have anyone. If we leave him here, these damn half-Elf hating Humans will kill him with a week's time."
"hat does we know of raising children?"
"I had four children of my own."
"And we know how well that went."
"I think there is a bigger problem in this town. One that no one is willing to talk about. There children have all gone missing and not one of the parents is consirned enough to make a fuss."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, they know what happened to their children and refusing to talk about it. And you heard ZooLock. He said that cult he joined up with was sacrificing babies. Well what do cultists sacrifice when they run out of babies?"
"What?"
"Children. I think the Thullid cult has a bigger hold on this village then we realize. And I think these murders are nothing but a diversion to get us looking the wrong way. It is a coincidence the murders started right when we arrived? I don't think so."
Mallac returned with a giant map. Shoved everything off the table and slammed the map down in front of Quaraun. Elwin hugged the Elf tighter, clearly afraid of the Human towering over them.
"Now if you look over here," Mallac said, pointing to the map.
Quaraun didn't hear the rest, as he found the embroidery on the soldier's uniform to be utterly fascinating and started counting the thread stitches wondering how difficult it would be to recreate the same pattern on one of his dresses.
As Mallac continued talking, Quaraun's mind wandered back to his youth, when the Moon Elves were still alive and he had a tailor's shop. Back when he was nothing but a simple wizard for hire as a pastime and a tailor as a career.
That was 400 years ago. Things had changed quite a lot. Now he barely had time to sew his own clothes, let alone sew clothes for others. Being a wizard had become far more complicated than he had anticipated. People like Mallac came to him for help all the time now. He barely had time to sleep. As of this moment, he hadn't slept in days. He was so tired.
"Are you listening to me?" Mallac yelled, snapping Quaraun out of his thoughts.
Quaraun had no idea how much time had passed. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. As it was now nearing sunset, it must have been hours. The sunset was causing a reflective light on the soldier's uniform. Quaraun quickly sunk back into his thoughts of embroidery, his brain drifting sleepily into dreamtime.
"You're doing it again!"
"What?" Quaraun asked, blinking and he sat up wondering why the man was yelling at him.
"Stay awake!"
"That is easier said then done. I've not slept in days."
"Have you heard anything I said?"
"No."
"No?"
"No."
"Why the hell not?"
"Your embroidery..."
"My what? What the hell are you talking about? This is important! What the hell were you doing instead of listening to me?"
"Your embroidery..."
"Where is your brain?"
"A jelly fish ate it."
"What?"
"A jelly fish ate my brain."
"What is wrong with you? Can you stop acting crazy long enough to listen to me?" The solider tossed the map in front of the Elf and repeated everything he had already said. "I said..."
Quaraun didn't hear a word of it. He went back to memorizing the detail of the embroidery stitches on Mallac's coat so he could sew them on his next dress and slowly drifting off to sleep again.
Quaraun was suddenly jolted awake by a loud noise. He looked around wondering where he was, then remembered Mallac and the map.
Mallac had slammed his fist on the table and was now yelling angrily at Quaraun.
Elwin now had a stranglehold on Quaraun's neck and was crying frantically, terrified of the screaming soldier.
"Shhhhhh," Quaraun hushed the toddler, stroking his hair and rocking back and forth. "It's alright. Ignore the crazy Human." To Mallac he said: "You're scaring the child."
"You refuse to stay awake!"
"I've been awake for the past 7 days. I need some sleep."
"You have a job to do."
"No, Mallac. You do! You have a job to do and you're too damned lazy to do it yourself so you're trying to pass it off on me instead."
"It is your responsibility..."
"I am not one of your soldiers," Quaraun said as he set Elwin on the seat and stood up to yell back at the soldier who was yelling at him. "I don't take orders from you. I didn't mind helping, because you were in trouble, but you are taking advantage of that. You have no right to boss me around. I'm not one of your men!"
Elwin was crying frantically now. Seeing Quaraun arguing with the solider, scared the little boy who clambered to Unicorn and was now hugging the Phooka's neck. Poor Elwin was traumatized more then any of them realized. He had just witnessed his mother murdered by an angry yelling man, and did not want to see yet another murder.
Mallac continued yelling at Quaraun.
"You're scaring the boy," Quaraun yelled back at the soldier.
"I don't know why you bother fussing over that child. He ain't nothing but an ingrate half-Elf."
"I am fed up with the way you arrogant, piss ant Humans treat the half-Elves around here!"
Mallac opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a word out Quaraun punched him in the face, throwing every bit of his tiny five foot six inch body into the punch. Mallac, not expecting the Elf to attack him, was easily knocked off balance. The soldier went tumbling to the floor. Unicorn stood up, carrying the child and looking back and forth from Quaraun to each of the soldiers. He knew that punch was about all the fight Quaraun had in him. Should the rest of the Humans decide to defend their leader and attack Quaraun, he didn't stand a chance.
But none of the Humans did anything. In fact, they looked like they were about to drop their weapons and run.
"That barmaid were right," Unicorn said to Quaraun.
"Gi'me, Elwin," Quaraun said as took the child from Unicorn.
Mallac was sprawled on the floor holding his nose and looking like he was about to start crying.
"I don't like bullies," Quaraun said to Mallac. "And I especially don't like grown men who pick on innocent children. You people in this town ought to be ashamed of yourselves. If the half-Elves are rising up to kill you all, well, then it's because you damned well deserve it. What is wrong with you people? I didn't come here to be pushed around by you. I came here to rest. I'm wounded and need to heal. It's terrible what is happening to your people, but it's not my responsibility to fix it, and from what I've seen it's your own damned fault. You treat the half-Elves like shit. They aren't being allowed to buy, sell, or trade. They are not being allowed to have jobs. When they go off by themselves, not bothering a damn one of you, what do you do? You murder their families and raze their farms. I've seen the half-Elf camps for myself. They are starving to death. They have no shelter. And winter is coming. You kill their livestock, destroy their crops, burn down their houses, simply because you don't like the colour of their blood. Then you complain because they are forced to steal food to survive. You brought this uprising on yourselves, and now you want me to clean up your damned mess? I'm not here to do your job for you. Had I not gotten wounded, I wouldn't even be here at all and you'd be stuck doing this all on your own."
With the orphan half-Elf toddler still in one arm, Quaraun took a map of the town and laid it out on the table. He began marking where each murder had occurred. After a few minutes, he said:
“If you connect the dots, it makes a seven painted star, with one ray missing. That means here will be one more murder in order to connect the dots. It'll be in the same place as the first, to seal the line.”
Mallac climbed up off the floor to look at the map.
''Are you sure?"
"'Yes."
''How can you be sure?"
"Because it's the same star that was drawn in blood on this boy's head. The killer murder this child's mother then drew that star of his head with her blood, to taunt you, for your foolish stupidity."
"It means something, yes?" Unicorn asked as he examined the map.
''Yes. It a symbol used to call up Demons. I'm not sure which Demon the killer is attempting to call up on, but if he kills the final person, it will bring a Demon up among us and that can be nothing but bad. We have to stop him before he kills again."
''How do we stop him?'' Mallac asked.
"Well, we know where the next murder will take place.”
“We do?”
“You're a very stupid Human,” Quaraun stated. “In the same place as the first in order to close the circle. And there may be another murder at the centre of the circle. I'm not sure the exact spell he is using. If I knew that I'd know if there was just one more murder or two more. "
''Is that important?"
''Yes. It means The Demon will rise up in either one more murder or two. "
"It is not a Lich making spell is it?" Unicorn asked.
''No. I don't think so. It doesn't appear to be Necromancy, it looks like Demonology."
'What's the difference?" Mallac asked.
“Quite a bit of difference. Necromancy manipulates soul of the dead. Magic involving manipulation of souls and spirits of the dead. Can be used to communicate with the Realm of the Dead, such as ghosts; can be used to reanimate dead bodies briefly. For example, mindless zombies, ghouls, etc. Can be used to resurrect dead loved ones - people and pets - as vampires or liches, which is something I specialize in and it can be used to restore life to dead plants, such as crops destroyed by frost, flood, etc. Which is what I do mostly. While most wizards use it for greed, power, and selfish reasons (evil Necromancers) a few of us use it for good to help people (good Necromancers).”
“And this Demon whatever you called it?”
“Demonology. It's magic using Demons. There are several types of Demonology schools, depending on the type of Demon a sorcerer has assisting him or type of Demon he is trying to call up. This appears to be Chaos Magic. The Guide has declared it illegal and any non-Demon caught practicing it to be executed on sight. Magic that was invented by Chaos Demons and harnesses energies from Hell Dimensions. Considered dangerous because of it's hit or miss chaotic results, but used because it has bigger results, not attainable through other less dangerous magic forms.”
“Bigger results?”
“Such as allowing the sorcerer to harness lightning bolts out of the sky and shoot them at enemy villages.”
“Can wizards do that?”
“Some can, yes.”
“Can you?”
“Yes.”
“Are you are Demonologist then?”

“No. Thullid. Thullids are a type of...” Quaraun stopped himself before saying Chaos Demon. It was hard for him to admit that he wasn't an Elf any more. Admitting to a Demon hunter that he was a Demon possessed Elf seemed to be a bad idea. He drew a 7 pointed star on the edge of the map.
“A star like this is used in Chaos Magic. Chaos Magic is difficult to use. Demons and Half Demons can usually wield is safely, but most other races suffer seriously mental side effects, to the point that the Faeries in the future will have to build an insane asylum just to contain all the criminally insane wizards who went mad after attempting to practise Chaos Magic.”
“Are you criminally insane?”
Quaraun stared at Mallac, but didn't answer. He did not like it when people called him insane. Seeing Quaraun was not going to answer him, Mallac continued.
“Magic is magic, far as I can see.”
“There are lots of types of magic groups and sub groups, Chaos Magic, Blood Magic, Demonology, Sex Magic, Green Magic, Sea Magic, Necromancy, etc. Each has it's own guilds, cults, rules, laws, politics, religious followings, etc. Within each are groups, cults, bands, churches, clubs, so on and so forth, some very strict, some admitting only members of certain races, etc.”
“Isn't all dark magic, just dark magic?”
“Necromancy is only dark magic when used for evil intent. It can be used for good. Demonology could be used for good as well, but it rarely is and if they are killing people, it certainly isn't. Since whoever is doing this is clearly killing people as part of their practicing Chaos Magic, then the type of Chaos Magic they are doing is clearly evil.”
"What about that GhoulSpawn?" Mallac asked.
"What about him?"
"He goes around calling himself a Chaos Wizard and he's always talking about Demons."
"You think GhoulSpawn capable of murder?"
"He's a criminal isn't he?"
"He's a thief. Practically a pirate. But that doesn't make him a murderer."
"Who else would it be then?"
"What about HellBorne?"
"Pfft! HellBorne. That old hack! Ha ha! Clearly you've never met the old coot."
"No, actually I have."
"What? How'd you meet him? He never comes down out of that tower of his."
"Actually, he's been at every murder."
"How do you know that?"
"Do you recall, I mentioned there was a red glowing powder at each crime scene?"
"Yes."
"And foot prints with drag marks, as though some one was draging something very heavy, yet, nothing was dragged?"
"Yes."
"Last night. When you and your men and Unicorn went looking for the boy, and left me alone with the body. An old one armed half-Elf, wearing long black robes with gold skulls embroidered on it, came out of the bushes. He'd been hiding there. He went up to the body, didn't realize I was still there, then had to come up with some lame excuse about why he was there. He was lying through his teeth."
"What does that have to do with the red powder or drag marks?"
"He was sprinkling the red powder around the body, chantting."
"And the drag marks?"
"He walks with a limp. Drags his leg. I checked his foot prints after he left. They're the same ones. HellBorne's your murderer."
“What at centre of star?” Unicorn asked.
“We are."
"We is?"
''Yes. The tavern is at the centre of the star. '
''Do dat mean tavern have some kind of meaning to someone?"
''I don't know. I'm not getting a sense of any magic or presence or anything here at all... I don't think this is the place he will call up the Demon,”
<<< Previous Chapter: The Oozing Plate Of Sugar Cookies Bludgeoned By The Courageous Alien Being Chased By A Bloodthirsty Crazed Celebrity Chef
Next Chapter: Elwin and The Town Full of Dead Children >>>

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

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

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This novel was originally written in: 2014 - 2016
This page was written by Wendy Christine Allen of 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine.
All Rights Reserved.
While there are around 20k pages on this website, most of them are blocked from search engines, with only around 800 of them available for appearing in Google/Bing/etc search results. The remainder can only be accessed via the various links found throughout this site. This was done deliberately on my part, and I did it because the bulk of the pages on this website are chapters from 138 novels and 423 novellas, so only the first page of each novel and novella indexed by search engines, and the remainder are linked in order, one page at a time, via clicking "next page" at the end of each. So if you are looking for a specific page from a specific novel, Google can't help you.
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Get an email whenever Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻 publishes on Medium.
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Do you know who drove this backhoe over my house at 146 Portland Avenue, Old Orchard Beach, Maine on August 8, 2013? If you have any information, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.
My house at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, July 4, 2013, photo taken because we had just finished building a baby room on the back. vs My house August 8, 2013, when the same group of people (yes group, the golf club woman was not alone when she attacked November 14, 2013, nor was she alone with her second attack July 2016.) who murdered my son on November 14, 2013 at Southern Maine Community College and crippled me July 26, 2016 at scarborough WalMart,... they arrived the first time with a backhoe on August 8, 2013, that they used to drive over my house, during a time of day that I normally was home asleep... I had to work a different shift at the Waffle Cone Pizza Food Truck at George's Parking Lot by Bill's Pizza at the OBB Peir, that day, otherwise, I too would be at the bottom of a landfill, along with my house and everything I owned that was also in the house. I was 5 months pregnant at the time and have been homeless for just under 14 years, homeless ever since....
... which means it is now only a few weeks from the 14th anniversary of my son's murder. I was 8 month pregnant November 14, 2013, and a student ay SMCC, and coming out of the Buglight Lighthouse art studio after art class, when a still unidentifiedwoman wielding a golf club attacked me, severed my spine, while I was 8 months pregnant, triggered early labour, then killed my son minutes after he was born.
While accusing me of being transgender, screaming "transvestite freak" and "look at that thing, that's Ken's son in a dress"... while I was 8 months pregnant.
My house at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, July 4, 2013, photo taken because we had just finished building a baby room on the back. vs My house August 8, 2013, when the same group of people (yes group, the golf club woman was not alone when she attacked November 14, 2013, nor was she alone with her second attack July 2016.) who murdered my son and crippled me, arrived the first time with a backhoe that they used to drive over my house, during a time of day that I normally was home asleep... I had to work a different shift at the Waffle Cone Pizza Food Truck at George's Parking Lot by Bill's Pizza at the OBB Peir, that day, otherwise, I too would be at the bottom of a landfill, along with my house and everything I owned that was also in the house. I was 5 months pregnant at the time and have been homeless for just under 14 years, homeless ever since. |
The backhoe driver returned November 14, 2013, armed with a golf club, used it to break my spine and smash my baby's brains out on the ground
On November 14, 2013, my son was murdered. I was 8 months pregnant, leaving my college classroom, and just getting into my car, when 3 strangers, a man and two women, armed with golf clubs leapt out from behind my car screaming "kill or be killed, kill the transvestite freaks, kill them all before they kill us! look at that thing! That is Ken's son, look at how it's dressed! kill the transvestite freaks! kill or be killed"... while the bald man and the red haired woman chanted this over and over, the blonde woman, lunged with the golf club.
She severed my spine, I am now a quadriplegic, and been paralyzed arms and legs, and in a wheelchair for 13 years now. She broke my hips, my knees, my legs, ruptured most of my discs, and shattered three of my vertebrae so bad that the shards of bone acted like glass and embedded themselves into my spinal column nerve bundle.
The attack also triggered labour.
My son was born in that parking lot, and he lived only a couple of minutes, before the deranged blonde woman, beat his head in and smashed his brains out, with the same golfclub she had just used to sever my spine and leave me crippled for the rest of my life.
Realizing that I was not transgender, and they'd just murdered a baby, the man grabbed the 2 women and forcibly dragged them away to a 4 door white pickup truck, and they left me there to die.
The FBI told me later, that a few weeks before this attack, and transwoman, had murdered a cis woman, in a parking lot, abou 20 miles away from where I was attacked. The FBI, believes that my attackers, had somehow found out I wrote transgender fiction, connecting my real name to my penname, (my father's name is in fact "Ken", and I do have a brother) and believed that I wrote transgender fiction, because I was myself transgender, even though I'm not transgender. The FBI, believes the attackers, thought I was my brother, pretending to be a woman.
The FBI investigation, into my son's murder, has dragged on for 13 years, and still now in 2026, continues on, with the FBI, still not having yet identified my attackers, and only guessing at what their motive was.
Thus we come to 2014, and the full swing change of the series I write. WHY my series, went from just a transman main character living life, to the full blown Mpreg genre series that it now is today.
Before the attack, I had a chance of having a baby. I don't know. And because I'm in America, I'm too old to adopt. You have to be under 45 years old to adopt a baby. That is the law in America. I was informed this, when we tried to adopt, now that my injuries leave me unable to get pregnant a 9th time.
Thus began my obsessively writing, my transman main character, pregnant. Always pregnant now. Every time. Every story. Stories that now fully focus on pregnancy, labour, miscarriages, babies dying, babies living, raising babies... the whole series, since 2014 has devolved into an outright baby obsession.
Meanwhile, reborn baby dolls were suggested to me by my therapist, and have also become a deeply obsessive part of my life. Because 13 years ago my son was murdered minutes after he was born, because a transphobic bigot mistook me for being transgender, I'm STILL in a wheelchair, struggling to relearn to use my arms and legs, now 13 years later, and I'm still DAILY dealing with police officers and FBI agents who while they are trying to find my son's killer, they are also daily reminding me... oh, yeah, my son was murdered, literally ripped out of my belly, by a transphobe. Who still has not been located and walks free to kill again.
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The golfclub woman as she looked during the golf club attack at Southern Maine community college November 14, 2013. She is about 20 to 30 years older then me and would be around 75 to 85 years old now in 2026. If you have any information about the identity of this child murderer, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 |
The golfclub woman as she looked during the shopping cart attack at Scarborough WalMart July 26, 2016. She is about 20 to 30 years older then me and would be around 75 to 85 years old now in 2026. If you have any information about the identity of this child murderer, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 |
The 2nd woman as she looked at both attacks, her hair goes all the way down to her knees. She is about 20 to 30 years older then me and would be around 75 to 85 years old now in 2026. If you have any information about the identity of this child murderer's accomplice, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 |
Do you know who these two woman who crippled me and murdered my baby, at Southern Maine Community College at 10PM on November 14, 2013, are, and what their connection to the backhoe that drove over my house is? If you have any information, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.
I am a legally blind quadriplegic, and low verbal, I have also published 138 novels in the last 48 years. It's not as impossible as people think. The problem being blind and quadriplegic, medically have different meanings then how those two words are used medically.
Fewer than 3% of all blind people see nothing. While 97% people who are classified as fully blind are able to see up to two feet in front of them. Legally blind means I can see more then two feet in front of me but not far enough to see twenty feet in front of me. In my case I can see about eight feet.
Quadriplegic, has varying levels, it means having a damaged nerve bundle in the spinal column causing limited mobility of all 4 limbs, (in my case this was done by a women wielding a golf club, who also beat my 8 month infant's head to pulp on the parking lot tarmak, at the same time she severed my spine with the same golf club; both on November 14, 2013; the FBI investigation into my son's murder and my being crippled has gone on now for 13 years, a few weeks away from 14 years now, and the FBI has still not identified the killer or her motive). Contrary to popular misconception, quadriplegic does NOT mean ZERO movement, it means means limited movement, specifically in means unable to lift arms over head, unable to grip fingers around objects to pick them up, and unable to stand for more then 5 minutes to a time. Because there are so many thousands of nerves in each limb it is actually very rare for there to be 100% no movement, but how much, and to what extent varies by patent depending upon the specific point of injury to the spinal column.
Meaning typing is still possible for over 60% of all quadriplegics.
In my case, it was the lower spine that was severed, cutting off completly my ability to move my right leg, leaving limited feeling in my left leg, and an ability to stand but not walk, with crutches, for the first 9 years. I regained enough nerve growth in my legs by the 9th year to be able to take ten or twelve steps allowing me to get out of bed for the first time since the golf club attack; This in turn lead to me being able to start using a wheelchair, as I was able to sit upright for the first time as well.
Because the shattered vertebrae bone fragments are broken off completly and embedded into the nerve bundle just above my tailbone, doctors were saying I would never walk again, but now at 13 years, I am able to push mu wheelchair like a walker, a distance of almost a thousand steps a day. Though doctors are still doubtful I will ever walk "normally" again, I have proven them wrong, when their said 13 years ago, that I would never walk again at all.
But because of the placement of the damage to my spine, regaining hand use, was always thought possible, it was just a matter of waiting long enough for nerve regrowth, along side daily finger exercises. I was able to continue writing, after becoming quadriplegic, because I still have use of my right thumb, and 2 fore figures of my right hand. And can type 90 words per minute with those 3 fingers.
I however have no wrist strength, elbow strength, or shoulder strength, so I am not able to form a fist, or lift objects, or brush my hair, or my teeth, all thing I have to have my caretaker do. But, those things are not needed for typing. Unfortunately, my pinky and ring fingers are "nerve dead" and drag over the keyboard, and cause horrific spelling errors and typos, which are incredibly frustrating to deal with.
Unfortunately trying to edit errors myself, just makes the errors worse, because those same two fingers drag over the keyboard yet again. Prior to the golf club attack, I rarely had spelling errors; now I got more spelling errors then someone is learning English as second language. Editing is a challenge, that I've had to accept, I simply can not do myself, and I have to hire several editors to help with that.
Low verbal means sounds can still be made, sounds that software programs like Dragon can be trained to recognize and translate, and type into full words. More then half my novels were typed with this method.
I still have a long ways to go before I am anything close to being able to do the things I could do before the golf club woman beat my baby's brains out and shattered my spine. And you know what's more frustrating then how slow mu medical progression has been? The fact that it's been 13 years and the police and FBI are still coming up at dead ends as to who the woman who murdered my baby was, or why she even did it.
My son's 14th birthday is only a few weeks away, but he didn't even get to live long enough to celebrate his 1st birthday, I don't even know why. And I can't wait to regain my ability to walk again, because regaining my ability to walk, means gaining the ability to go outside and start looking for my son's murderer myself instead of sitting at home trapped in a wheelchair waiting for the police and FBI to to find her. So, writing isn't a big priority for me anymore. I only write now, as a way to exercise my hands, in between relearning to walk.
Never let a disability stop you. Plenty of writers, artists, athletes, do not let either blindness, speech impediments, or limited mobility hold then back from perusing their careers.
Do you know who these two woman who crippled me and murdered my baby, at Southern Maine Community College at 10PM on November 14, 2013, are, and what their connection to the backhoe that drove over my house is? If you have any information, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.
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There are no ebook editions as they are already available digitally here on my website.