Quaraun the Insane:
Zebulon's Captive:
The Last of The Moon Elves



By Wendy C Allen
eelkat_red_scarf.jpgWendy 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:

The introduction to The Pink Necromancer Series. 

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.

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.

Health update: August 4, 2026 - in recovery for 6 months+ (at least until mid-January 2027...all book and video game releases are pushed back at least 6 months) see video below for why...
@eelkat

health update #maine #disabilityawareness #wheelchairlife #wheelchairvlogger #multiplesclerosis

♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author
@eelkat Health update: #chickenpox #bellspalsy #RamsayHuntsyndrome #paralysis #recovery ♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author
@eelkat

I seem to have had another stroke (during the night while I was asleep?) #stroke #paralysis

♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author

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. 

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.

Quaraun the Insane:
Zebulon's Captive:
The Last of The Moon Elves

"Arrrgh-umff."

Quaraun cried out, partly with fear and partly from pain, as the two big Wild Elves slammed him face first to the ground, then dragged him by his ankles to the center of the room. The Wild Elves were strong and burly and showing off to the several females in the cell with them. Quaraun was the smallest of the Elves, smaller even then any of the females. He was also old and frail and weak. Much older then any of the Elves he was trapped with, aged beyond the natural years of an Elf, Quaraun lacked even what little strength he had once had in his youth. He could no longer see well, nor hear well, and his muscles were worn thin with age. The elderly Moon Elf was thin and weak and not putting up much of a fight as his tormentors attacked him, bullying him, poking and prodding at him, then stripping him naked while holding his face to the floor.

The poor ancient Elf flailed against his attackers, but they laughed at his weak attempts to fight back. After a few moments of dragging him around, scraping him up on the floor, they toss Quaraun over a table.

The poor frightened Elf squealed and kicked, trying to get away. The females snickered, knowing what was about to happen to the old albino.

Rough fingers clamped onto his butt cheeks pulling them apart. At the same time another Elf's fingers pushed their way up into his anus. Quaraun tried to kick his asulters, but someone grabbed his legs and held them down.

He could feel something being forced inside of him, but he couldn't tell what it was. It was too hard to be a dick. Too hard, too cold, too smooth. It felt like metal of glass. A bottle? Or perhaps a pipe? He couldn't tell. He felt the unidentified object go deeper and deeper, sliding back out, before be thrust back in once again. Quaraun howled in pain as the hard object was thrust against his pelvic bone. 

Quaraun yelped each time the Wild Elf's hard cock slammed against his sensitive prostrate.

He could feel the hot semen spraying in spurting jets inside of him. His attacker pulled out, allowing the sticky cum to ooze back out of his ass. Hoping the rape was over, Quaraun tried to relax, but immediately he felt another of the Wild Elves position himself behind him.

The Humans arrived and broke up the gang rape. While the zookeepers tased the attacking Wild Elves, Quaraun hurriedly dressed then dragged himself into the corner farthest away from the others. He was too dizzy to stand and too sore to do anything else. The old wizard collapsed gasping and panting for breath.

When Quaraun woke up again, he found himself alone, in a bed, in small room, in the house, not the barn, not much different from the one he had been in previously, just a lot smaller. The room was a dull unpainted white base coat, with a few random bits of furniture. The bed was a fold up cot, rather then an actual bed. Quaraun's injuries had been bandaged, but he was hurting too much to try to move, so closed his eyes and tried to sleep. When he woke again, there were several Humans in the room, looking down at him and speaking to each other in a language he didn't know. Confused and scared, Quaraun wanted to run away, but there was no place to go. The room had no windows and the only door was closed and blocked by the Humans. He perked his long ears trying to listen to their conversation, hoping he could make out some thing of their language, but it was useless. Their language was too unlike any language he had ever heard before.


~~~~~~~~~~~


Zebulon was there talking with the men who had rescued Quaraun from the Wild Elves. 

"Why do they keep attacking him?" Zebulon roared angrily. "I've never had this problem before. I've been breeding Elves for decades. I've never seen anything thing like this."

"He appears, to not have the Hive Mind, sir," one of the men answered.

"What do you mean he doesn't have the Hive Mind. All Elves have it."

"I don't think this one does. I think that's why they attack him. I think he might be outcast."

"Out cast? Are you telling me I have an out cast Elf in my stock?"

"It looks that way."

"Why wasn't that in his paperwork? It decreases his value. Increases the amount of care. He has to be separated. Put in his own pen. I avoid out cast Elves for this reason."

A doctor, a veterinarian for Elves, was there as well.

"Most outcast Elves," the vet said. "Are outcast for a reason. They're usually murderers."

"The other Elves raped him," one of the men said. "But it wasn't like they were doing it for pleasure... I don't know how to describe it. It was almost like some form of punishment. It ritualistic, what they were doing to him."

"You know, he could be homosexual," the vet said. "I've heard of Elves been cut out if the Hive Mind for that. That would certainly explain rape as a form of punishment."

"The males would rape him for being gay?"

"Oh yeah."

"Would that not make them gay?"

"They don't see it that way. Males fucking other males, they don't seem to have a problem with that. It's a male that won't fuck another male.. the bottom... he's the one they got issues with. And if they had no trouble getting him to submit to them, then you're probably dealing with an Elf that's used to being abused and just backs down to anyone."

"So they rape him, because others did?"

"Yeah. I've seen it happen before. You get an Elf that's scared, timid, or in any way submissive, the other males will just gang up on him and brutalize him. Kind of a hazing ritual. They do it in public in front of the whole community. It's a way to to shame them, publicly humiliate them. It's possible, because he's knew to this community of Elves, they are hazing him, to let the others know to stay away from him."

"But why did they attack him?" Zebulon asked the vet. "It makes no sense."

"Male superiority," one man explained. "Elves are brutally viscous towards each other. Any male gets out of line they'll bully him until he gets in line or until they kill him. Whichever comes first. Elves have a pecking order. The strongest will target the weakest, claim dominance over them. I've seen it happen before. He's small and old. Judging from his clothes he's also an aristocrat."

"I thought the High Elves lorded over the others?" Zebulon asked. He was puzzled by this whole situation.

The other men laughed.

"You've never tried breeding aristocrats before have you?"

"No."

"Do you even know why they are nearly extinct?"

"Never looked into it."

"They rarely breed even on their own. They fought each other into extinction. Each male thinking they were better then all the rest. Killed each other off. Then when the Wild Elves started hunting them down, there weren't enough of them left to fight back. It's a wonder any High Elves exist at all these days."

"I thought the High Elves were peaceful?"

"Have you ever even owned a High Elf before?"

"No. He's the first I've had. Common Elves are easier to come by. Blood Elves are a dime a dozen. No one wants to deal with adult Blood Elves brought in from the wild. Babies they can tame, sure. And I've always heard night mare stories of the fights that break out between High Elves and Common Elves, but I thought it was just stories." 

"Was it Common Elves that attacked him?"

"Blood Elves."

"Blood Elves! You have Blood Elves? They're dangerous."

"Yes, but I've never had this problem with them before."

"The aristocrats separate themselves from the others. They live in houses, like we do. They don't live like savages the way the Blood Elves do. They are almost a different species, they act so different from one another. The Common Elves have a tendency to bully the aristocrats. But Blood Elves... you're lucky they didn't tear him apart and eat him. You likely won't be able to breed him to any of the females who saw it happen, either."

"Why not?"

"Females go after the strongest males. From what you said, they took him down so fast, and he wasn't strong enough to fight back. Any female who saw that happen is going to refuse to breed with him. It's the way Elves are. I've seen it before. Of course there's the other problem."

"Which is?"

"Well, if he is an aristocrat,"the vet went on. "And I'm pretty sure he is, he'll likely refuse to breed with any race other then his own. They are stubborn that way. Inbreeding is very common among the pale Northern Elves. He'll likely have to be forced to breed."

"I paid good money for this one. Paid more for him alone then I did for all the rest combined. And now you're telling me we can't breed him?"

"No. Just that it's going to be difficult. It's rare for these Northern Elves to breed in captivity and even left to their own defenses they rarely breed. It's why they are so rare. I'm not saying we can't use him as a breeder, just that you won't be able to just toss him in with a pack of females and expect him to hump them all of his own free will, like a Wild Elf would do. And the other thing is..."

"There's more?"

"Yeah. This one is really old."

"A lot of Elves are old. Hard to find young ones these days."

"No. I mean he's REALLY old. He looks old. Elves don't age. Even old Elves look young. He looks very old, which means he's ancient."

"So?"

"He's also injured."

"Which is why you are here."

"No. I'm not talking about what the others just did to him. Look."

The vet held up a stack of x-rays.

"He has a lame leg, doesn't he?"

"He walks with a limp, yes."

"He's got weak joints, poor muscles, a bad hip, a lame leg, and looks like he's got some long term spine damage. The x-rays I took of him...his leg is not good. And he's been walking on it like that a while, probably a few decades, for the bone to be worn down like this. He had a broken hip at some point and it never healed."

"Yes. I knew he had a bad leg when I bought him. He can't walk good on his own. He leans on things, holds on to walls."

"He probably needs a cane."

"He had one. The other Elves took it from him and broke it."

"Look at this. The way his hip and pelvis bones are worn down. That's really gonna limit his ability to breed."

"How?"

"The way those bones are rubbing together, it's a wonder he can even walk at all. It's gonna make breeding painful for him. And it's not just his leg. His spine is damaged. Vertebrae are worn down. Disks are ruptures. His back and hip gotta be hurting pretty bad."

"He didn't act like he was in pain."

"Most Elves won't. They just grit their teeth and keep on going. Ignore the pain. If he were a family pet, I'd be prescribing a lot of pain killers right now."

"So what do I do with him?"

"If it were me, I'd recommend moving him into the house. Give him to your wife for a pet. He'll be happier away from the other Elves, and it'll be easier to monitor his health, get him medicated. Possibly physical therapy to maybe revers the damage to his  joints." 

"I bought him as a breeder, not a house pet."

"I really don't think he's breeder material."

"Do you have any idea how rare a White Elf is?"

"Yes. I do. But an Elf this old, probably doesn't have that much of a sex drive, if he's even still fertile at this age at all."

"So you are saying I can't breed him?"

"No. Just telling you he's gonna be a challenge to breed. And near as I can tell, he's a race that was supposed to have gone extinct some 700 years ago. There were rumors that one male survived and went off into the mountains, became a hermit. I mean, if this is him... he's gotta be close to a thousand years old."

"Is that possible?"

"It's not unheard of, but it's rare that an Elf lives more then 500 years. I mean, I know what they said in his papers, but, sellers are known to lie about a breeder to get the bid higher. You got to wonder how successful he could be as a breeder at that age."

"They assured me that he was tested and had already successfully impregnated 14 females while they had him."

"Well, dealers have been known to lie..."

"I was there," a third man spoke up. "When you bought this one. I remember them saying they had a hard time with him. Said it was why they were selling him. They said his didn't get along with the other Elves. Said they had hard time breeding him. They warned us about that. They said he was fertile but stubborn, that's how he was described in the ad too. "old male Snow Elf: fertile but stubborn."

"No," the first man said. "This is not a Snow Elf. I've seen a few before. This is most diffidently not a Snow Elf."

"You saying I got cheated?" Zebulon boomed angrily.

"No. You probably got a bargain all things considering. How much did you pay for him?"

"I paid for male Snow Elf. Do you know how much they go for these days?"

"How much did you pay for this one?"

"Two million."

"Two million?" A few of the other men stammered and sputtered. "I was thinking like a few thousand. You paid two million dollars for this one? Why?"

"Do you know how rare a Snow Elf is?"

"But this," the vet continued. "This is not a Snow Elf."

"Then what the hell did I buy?"

"You got a black light?"

"Of course we do."

"Bring it in here, If this is what I think he is, you're gonna love this."

A man left and returned with the light. The vet turned the lights of the room off then shined the black light over Quaraun. The Elf shivered in fear, not knowing what was happening.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," the vet said.

Quaraun's snow white albino skin, was glowing a brighialt white.

"See?" The vet said. "He glows in the dark. That's not a Snow Elf."

"What the hell is he?" Zebulon asked.

The vet turned the lights back on.

"You got a copy of the History of the Northern Elves?"

"Of course I do."

"Want to bring it here."

The book was brought in moments later. The vet flipped through the book to the section titled: EXTINCT RACES. Then flipped through until he found the page titled: MOON ELVES.



Lich Art Images Provided By Amazon



"Here," he handed the book to Zebulon.

The Humans fell silent for a few moments while Zebulon read the introduction to the passage.

"It says Moon Elves are extinct," Zebulon said.

"It says, they are the whitest of the albino races. That their skin glowed in the dark under the light of a full moon, due to their being semi aquatic and having phosphorus in there skin. And it says, that one survived. If you keep reading, it gives a description of him, states he was a priest of a now defunct religion, and wore very distinctive pink robes covered in heavy embroidery. It goes on to say that there were hundreds of sightings of him through Maritime Canada, and Northern New England, over the next few hundred years. He was supposed to be some sort of wizard or something."

"Wizard?"

"Well, you know what medieval folks were like. Our scientists would be seen as wizards. The point is, he was known as The Pink Necromancer. And there were hundreds of sightings of him. It's been confirmed by several sources that one Moon Elf did survive, and without his people, he became a wandering hermit. I believe this is that same Elf. He's certainly the right age... and... look at his cloths. They're identical to what is described in the book. We'd have to run more tests, test his DNA against the database..."

"Do you have Moon Elf DNA to compare his with?"

"Oh, yes. Archaeologists found the ruins of the Moon Elf city up in Quebec. Whatever killed them, hit 'em fast. Like Pompeii. Most of the bodies are still intact. Flash frozen, fossilized in ice. Perfectly preserved. I think we should have him tested."

"And what if this is a Moon Elf? What then?"

"Zebulon, do you have any idea how much people would pay for a Moon Elf? Even one that was only half Moon Elf? If you could get him to produce just one baby a year... just one...you'll double you're investment. And if we could find another Northern Elf. A female. A white female like him, to cross breed him with... not only would people pay good money for those babies... but we could interbreed them. Keep the females. Sell the males. Just keep him. Breed him back to the females he produces. Do that three generations deep... you'll have pure blooded Moon Elves again. Or nearly so. Moon Elves are considered to be the oldest race. The purest race. The original Elves. The first Elves that all other Elves came from. And you have one here... alive. This will change history. We can bring a lost race of Elves, back into existence."


~~~~~~~~~~~


Quaraun continued listening to the men as they talked, but he understood nothing they said. He knew they were talking about him. They frightened him, but he didn't know why. They were pointing at books, then pointing at him, and shining strange lights in his face. The one he'd never seen before, was talking very fast and very excitedly. Like a child whom had just found a beloved toy, previously thought to be gone for good. Quaraun did not like how excited and happy this Human had become. It scared him. Humans could not be trusted, and it seemed that the Humans in this dimension were even less trust worthy then the ones back in his own world.

Volume 58: Zebulon's Captive

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.

The Elves find themselves in the distant future, imprisoned by a madman named Zebulon. Slave trader. Zookeeper. Side show ring master. Elf breeder.

Quaraun, ever the peaceful non-violent hippie of an Elf, takes a complacent stance to the abuse he receives at the hands of the Humans, refusing to fight back or defend himself.

When Quaraun finds his long lost missing half-Elf daughter, now an adult and being used as a breeder, repeatedly raped and tortured, his complacently wanes, given way to hellish wrath unleashed on every Human he meets.

Leaving a bloody trail of bodies in his path, Quaraun takes his daughter and escapes, eventually finding his way back to his own time...

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.

NOTE: Most of the Quaraun series is written in a distinctive "stage play dialogue" style with almost no narratives. The entire series being almost straight up dialogue.

Zebulon's Captive breaks from that format, going almost completely into the reverse, and being almost entirely narrative.

This is the first volume of the series, featuring Quaraun as a mute character. At the beginning he's not talking because he's sold to slavery in a country where he does not know the language. The whole story being told in narrative format of what he sees and feels and is thinking, without him ever having a conversation with the people around him.

By the end of this volume, his tongue has been cut out, leaving him mute and no longer able to verbally communicate from this novel onward in the series.

This is the story that introduces Quaraun as the Grand High Emperor of the Triple Planets, the the evil, serial killing Necromancer who builds the blood thirsty, flesh eating, Twighlight Manor, and primary villain of The Twighlight Manor series.

This 2 part story is continued in "My Two Favorite People"... 

This is the story told from BoomFuzzy's perspective and takes place at Black Tower, telling what happened to BoomFuzzy and GhoulSpawn, while Quaraun was gone.

TRIGGER WARNING: This is perhaps the darkest story in the series and puts the topic of rape front and center with multiple, graphically violent torture rape scenes played out on page. This volume contains some of the most violent scenes of the entire series.

Three wizards and a Rose Garden


The Elf Repopulation Project




"Sold! To Zebulon, for two million dollars."


Zebulon's Elf Breeding Farm


The Last of The Moon Elves


A Second Moon Elf Found


The Burned Elf

On Writing The Quaraun Series



Articles For Writers on How To Write & Publish A Rapid Release  Series

Want to write like I do? You want this page:

Writing Mindset Shift & Lester Dent vs Kishotenketsu

w/Thoughts on Being one of Dr. Lindstrom's 200 PenPal Students (NaNoWriMo & NovNov 2025)


plus

Polyamory Beyond Fetish: Writing Multi-Partner Relationships

and

Writing Blind Characters

Plus

Elves and Very High, High Elves 

VS

Unicorns and Phookas and Demons

and also

What exactly makes an Elf an Elf?
(What is the definition of an Elf?)

but

Noses, Penis Piercings, And Rapunzel Hair

and

Need Help Defeating Overpowered Fantasy Wizards?

+

Wizards and More Wizards

and Even More Wizards

and Still More wizards

and

MAKE VILLAINS EVIL AGAIN: A WRITER’S BATTLE CRY TO RECLAIM THE DARK SIDE

Have you ever considered:

How Things In Your Life Affect Your Writing

or

Currency In Worldbuilding

and

The Dangers of World Travel

or 

Dragging a Body Through The Snow

and

Talking While Falling Asleep

or

Worldbuilding MoonQuakes and Disabled Characters for Fantasy Writers

or

I have everything but the kitchen sink...
wait, how'd that kitchen sink get in my pocket?

Writing Absurdist Fantasy Books

but

How long does it take to reach 1667 words? and 50k in one day - is it possible?

plus

What is the average typing speed?

plus

What (self-publishing) platform pays the most (for books)? My top 3 picks. Comparing my results from different places.


and

Knowing what to include when describing the surroundings of a scene

also

Validation Is a Cult

and

Open Strong, Stay Loud

and 

Where are the writers who love writing?

plus

Self-Publishing Success: Does Anyone Ever Succeed at Self-Publishing?

and

Where To Get Writing Ideas?

and

Writing What You Know Might Not Be What You Think It Is

and

Why I do not attend writing groups...are they all like this or just the ones in Maine?

but also

Don't Forget To Just Write 

because Yes, You Can!

Plus

The Park Bench Method of Writing (with 10k writing prompt list)

or

The Park Bench Method of Writing (just the article)

plus:

How did you build your audience?
Not online, that's for sure.
aka How to sell ten million books
aka How I sold ten million books.

Need Writing Prompts?

Conversations with ChatGPT on the art of writing

The Park Bench Method of Writing








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! ꧁✨🌸🔮🦄🔮🌸✨꧂

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Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻
eelkat_red_scarf.jpg

Wheelchair Fundraiser

@eelkat

i just found out there is yet another bizarre rumour going around. where are these wild rumours coming from? who is starting them? and why?

♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author
@eelkat

since I've been flooded with hundreds of messages the past two weeks asking if I still own "the world's most haunted car", yes, and here it is, filmed today May 18, 2026… but my son Xavier is dead, i am crippled and given that people are AGAIN showing up calling my Dodge "haunted", calling my friend "an alien", calling me "transgender", and spreading wild defamation slander connecting me to Stephen King, I think I need to start taking down the contact information of every blogger, podcaster, youtuber, and social media account spreading these rumors, and sue every single one of them for CAUSING my car to be cut in half May 10, 2010, for CAUSING the backhoe that drove over my house August 8, 2013, for CAUSING my son's murder November 14, 2013, for CAUSING me to be crippled and in a wheelchair November 14, 2013, and for CONTINUING to CAUSE harassers to show up in person to harass me near daily, STILL now in 2026. EVERYONE telling you my car is haunted, telling you my friend is an alien, calling my car "the goldeneagle", calling my friend "Etiole", or trying to connect me or my car to Stephen King, is lying to you. They crippled me when I was 8 months pregnant, and 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 identified the attacker who crippled me and killed my baby, both violently with a golf club and the FBI believes that it is friends and family of the woman who did it, are the ones who started and spread the rumors saying my car is haunted, saying I'm an alien abductee, saying all kinds of similar bs about aliens, ufos, ghosts, witchcraft, demons, and Stephen King connections, even though I don't believe in ghosts, aliens, ufos, demons, and had never heard of Stephen King before 30k of his fans showed up in my yard trying to find my car! FBI believes the backhoe driver and the murderer are the same person and it is a developer who wanted my land and so started the Stephen King, ghost, and alien rumors all in an attempt to drive me off my land, and when it didn't work they drove a backhoe over my house, and when that didn't work they crippled me and killed my son. Why are they doing this? How do I get them to stop?

♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author






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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.

eelkats_house_before_after.jpgMy 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.

Clairescreenshot.pngIf 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.

zzzz999ClaireRed2016-screenshotIf 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.

Kendrascreenshot.pngIf 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.

Find Me on Social Media:


Any websites and accounts you find online that are NOT on this list are NOT Wendy Christine Allen

All the writing prompts found here on my website, are also available in printed paperback editions, on Amazon.

There are no ebook editions as they are already available digitally here on my website.