Update: November 7, 2022
This week we should be celebrating the 9th birthday of my son.
Instead we are celebrating the 9th anniversary since his murder.
If you have any information, please call FBI Portland Office @ 207-774-9322
ask for Agent Andy Drewer.
November 14, 2013 10PM @ Southern Maine Community College Art Studio Bug-Light Parking Lot: 3 strangers armed with golf clubs, attacked me from behind while I was loading bags into the backseat of my car. They were a blond woman 60s-ish whom the others called "Claire", a natural red-haired woman also 60sish who called herself "Kendra", and a bald man, football player-body-type-build in his 30sish. I was 8 months pregnant. They murdered my baby, ruptured 3 discs in my spine, shattered 3 vertebra, broke my pelvis, hips, and knees. I was paralyzed for 5 months and was 18 months relearning to walk. The nerve damage has left me with limited use of my hands, legs, bladder, and intestines.
On top of that, they have also taken to harassing the baby's father, a disfigured, homeless, WW2 veteran, whom they call "Etoile". They spread hateful rumours about him claiming he is a cryptid, a demon, or most often what they term "an amphibious alien". He lives in pine branch lean-toos he builds in Old Orchard Beach and Ocean Park, and they have been hunting the locations of them, tearing them down, and smashing up his belongings.
April 10, 2015 1PM at 146 Portland Ave Old Orchard Beach Maine a gang of estimated 74 people, some of them wearing ku klux klan robes, invaded my farm, used a Blow Brothers sewage truck to pump 500+gallons of sewage into my motorhome flooding it to over the kitchen counters deep, ripped out all the cabinets and built in furniture, while 14 men armed with guns, held my family down on the ice and snow, with guns to our heads, and used cinder block bricks and a metal pole with metal wire loops to beat and behead 10 of my 12 foster children (the youngest age 4, the oldest age 16). May 15, 2015 they returned and nailed their heads to my front door. The 3 people of the November 14, 2013 attack were among the group.
September 12, 2015, 9AM a dozen+ of these same people arrived again in my driveway at 146, this time chanting: "Too gay for the family friendly town of Old Orchard Beach. Kill of be killed. Remember Saco Shaw's, Transgender Murder Store, kill the transvestites before they kill us all", one white haired man in a dark green pick up truck was leading the herd, while waving a rifle over his head and shooting at me and my pink motorhome, he shot several holes through my neighbour's shed. The crowd was accusing me of being a male-to-female "transgender terrorist" (they thought I was Muslim because I wear Catholic veiling).
June 26, 2016, the same 2 women of the first 2 attacks, arrived at my Scarborough WalMart workplace, and in a near repeat of the first attack, again while I was leaned over the back seat of my car putting bags in, this time they attacked with a chopping cart, re-injuring my spine, hip, and pelvis that was not yet fully healed from the first attack. The blond "Claire" woman was screaming "That's EelKat, she tried to kill my husband!" while the redhead screamed "I'm Kendra Silvermander it's my turn the shine!" They sped away in a early2000s-vintage gold Volvo SUV station wagon. This attack left me permanently crippled, and bedridden from 2016 until May 2022.
November 21, 2021: They shot "Etiole" in Biddeford, while he was staying at the tent-shanty-village with about 50 other homeless people along the Saco River in Biddeford. They made the claim he was a "suicide demon" citing that he was driving locals to suicide by putting "evil eye curses" on them.
These people murdered my baby, attempted to murder the baby's father, drove a backhoe over our house, and left me crippled for the rest of my life in their attempt to murder me.
I do not know who these people are. I never saw them before these attacks, and I've not seen them outside of these attacks. The police and FBI believe I was not the intended target, and that they were likely after my mother because of posts she makes on FaceBook and got us mixed up. The Old Orchard Beach and Biddeford Police and the FBI are seeking information leading to their identity and arrest.
More Info @ eelkat.com
Long detailed info on the over 200 attacks they have done between June 2001 and May 2022, including photos of them driving a backhoe over our house on August 8, 2013 and the details of the malicious "amphibious alien" rumour they have been spreading about a local homeless disabled veteran @
https://www.eelkat.com/AmphibiousAliens.html
Images:
July 4th 2013: my car in front of my house.
August 8, 2013: me getting home from work to find a backhoe sitting on top of my house.
The FBI already found the people with the backhoe incident, and learned that the backhoe driver was paid $600 and given a fake demolition paper, the paper stating one of my relatives (the one who paid him the $600) owned my land. The backhoe driver was unaware that the man he was dealing with was not the owner. I have lived at 146 Portland Ave since 1975 and have owned the land since 1983, it has never been owned by anyone else, even though we have now learned that both my mother and my father and 3 of my uncles had been actively going around Old Orchard Beach claiming they owned my land.
This happened 3 months before my son was murdered and the police and FBI believe my son was murdered BECAUSE of this picture being posted on FaceBook, and my mother making inciting/inflammatory posts about it on HER FaceBook, where she falsely accused me of being a witch. The FBI and OOB police believe the golf club wielding woman of November 14, 2013, is somehow connected to the backhoe driving over my house incident.
Since the murder, 3 other different backhoes have invading my land to dig up my yard, looking for the grave of my son. There is a family cemetery on my land, the stones dating mostly in the 1500s and 1600s, with a few from the past hundred years, the most recent being my son in 2013. 146 Portland Ave has belonged to my family since 1530, and I inherited it in 1983 from my grandmother Helen Ricker Allen. The most recent backhoe attack happened September 19, 2020, when they illegally cut down several trees in my yard, and started construction of a road through my yard between my pink 1975 Dodge Sportsman motorhome and BackElder Brooke, again the backhoe digging up and destroying large portions of my farm, in their search for my murdered son's grave. They dug up 16 of the graves in this attack.
We have had to remove the grave markers from the family grave in order to stop these vandals and their illegally trespassing construction equipment from destroying the graves.
The FBI believes these construction crews are being hired by the golf club wielding women, and believe she is trying to destroy the grave of my son, due to a fear of his golf club smashed skull being used as court evidence against her.
The most recent attacks by these people occurred November 21, 2021 and March 27, 2022 when they attacked my painted Volvo while it was parked at my dad's apartment in Biddeford, both times the vandals also cut all the wires to electricity, internet, and cable off the apartment building, effecting all 9 families living there.
The Old Orchard Beach and Biddeford Police Departments as well as the Portland FBI are seeking any information regarding any and all of these attacks on my family, my home, my land, or my cars.
If you have any information, please call FBI Portland Office @ 207-774-9322
ask for Agent Andy Drewer.
There is no Mournful Lamb Inn
Into The Swamp of Death
(novel excerpt)
TRIGGER WARNING
This novel is about a murder-suicide, in which the suicide victim is found still alive.
This scene contains references to cutting, drug overdose, and suicide attempts.
Reader discretion is advised.
Possibly NSFW
Sample Chapter from:
Quaraun and the Vampire, Into the Swamp of Death
Volume 8 of
The Adventures of Quaraun the Insane
When Quaraun woke up again, he found himself alone, and racked his brain trying to determine what to make of last night. Did he see Unicorn last night? or was it just a hallucination? He could not be sure. The Vampire had drugged him and he could not be certain of anything. As he got out of bed, he realized that his whole body ached. The claw marks, bites, cuts, and scratches that covered his body told him that at least some part of last night was real.
Quaraun was too weak to get out of bed and drifted in and out of sleep for several days.
"I really hurt ya did I, eh?"
Quaraun looked up to see the Vampire sitting cross legged on the bed beside him.
"I did'na mean to ya know."
"Are you Unicorn?"
"Aye."
"You don't look like Unicorn."
"I is shape shifter. I can look like anything I want to."
"I liked Unicorn."
"Ya loved de Unicorn."
"I miss Unicorn."
"I is still me, no matter what I look like."
"What happened to you?"
"I died un it broke yar heart. Cracked ya right out of yar crazy wee lil head. Ya did'na tinks I could die. Did ya? Ya thought I twere Lich un nothing could kill me. It ripped yar poor wee lil mind apart when ya realized I could die. When ya learned, too late to prevent me death. Ya still do'na remember what happened do ya?"
"Unicorn's dead. You're not him."
The Vampire leaned over and kissed Quaraun's cheek.
"Would ya rather have Unicorn or BoomFuzzy?"
"Unicorn was BoomFuzzy. BoomFuzzy was a Phooka in disguise."
The Vampire melted away replaced by what appeared to be a black skinned Scottish humanoid Fae, with a wild mess of black unbrushed frizzy braids and dreadlocks that hung to his waist and were stuck full of moss, bones, feathers, beads, ribbons, and twigs, that was Unicorn’s Humanoid form. His black eyes had no whites and no iris, and were like staring into two black bottomless pits. Unicorn could have passed for Human if not for his eyes, his piranha-like fangs, and the huge, fearsomely, sharp eagle talons which tipped each finger.
"I is Unicorn, agains. Ya rest. I'll's be Unicorn for ya. Yar memories will return un I fear what ya'll do when they have. Ya has done something terrible. Me poor wee lil peaceful pink Necromancer. Ya has never hurt anyone before. Not really. I can see that now. That's why ya could'na kill me on Fire Mountain. Ya has never killed anyone before. I do'na know hows ya got Gibedon's head, but I is now very certain, Gibedon did not die by yar hand. Ya have'na got it in ya to take life. When Massimara's Orcs murdered me, ya turned around un killed everyone in room. Every last one."
Unicorn raised the Elf's hand to his cheek, then began kissing Quaraun's fingertips as he spoke.
"Ya killed everyone, Quaraun. Not just Massimara un her Orcs. Ya used magic to kill Massimara un her Orcs. Just thought them dead un POOF! Dead they were. Blasted them into oblivion, powder un ash, they be nothing but nice big pile of dust now. But then I twere dead, un ya in state mind ya were in, turned on our friends with that ruby jewelled obsidian dagger. Ya slit dair throats un gutted dair bellies. Ya used Vampire making ritual to restore me life with dair blood, but eftahwairds ya could'na live with what ya had done to our friends un ya turned knife on yarself."
Unicorn kissed the Elf's bleeding wrists. Quaraun could see the wounds now. There were horrible self inflicted cuts on his arms. The combination of the drugs and the blood loss, Quaraun was having trouble keeping his mind in focus.
"Me poor wee lil heart broken Elf. Come, ya have'na eaten in several days, let us go downstairs un get ya something to eat. Elves can'na go so long without eating as Phookas can."
They went downstairs. Quaraun, still in a daze, leaned heavily on the Vampire.
"Unicorn's alive," said Quaraun.
"Is he now? Oh dear. We're back to that point are we? Did ya hear anything I said since ya woke up?"
It worried Unicorn, that Quaraun was out of his senses so long this time. He had tried to kill himself before, but he’d never come this close to succeeding before. That fact that he couldn’t keep Quaraun conscious for long was troubling. And the fact that Quaraun forgot everything that had happened each time he whole up was worrisome and frustrating and Unicorn had little patience for repeating himself, yet, Quaraun seemed to have suffered serious brain damage this time, so Unicorn tried desperately to hold his temper.
“I needs ya to remember, Quaraun. Please try to remember, where ya is un what ya has done. It important.”
“Remember?”
“Aye. Please try. Ya’ve done a terrible t’ing.”
“Have I?”
“Aye. Ya has.”
“What do I need to remember?”
“Look at ya arms.”
“Why?”
“Ya tried to kill yarself.”
“No. I didn’t.”
“Ya did. Quaraun, please look at ya hands. There is more then ya blood dair. Yis covered in blood, un it not all yars. I knows not what has happened to ya, but ya need to look at what ya has done. Ya needs to wake up out of whatever this is ya is in. Look around. We is not in a tavern. Can ya not see that?”
“This is The Mournful Lamb Inn.”
“No. There is no Mournful Lamb Inn.”
“Where are we?”
“We are in a graveyard in Baironi.”
“Why are we in Baironi?”
“I was very sick. I were dying. I died. It broke ya heart. Yis a Necromancer. Ya tried to help me. In de end ya did, but at great cost.”
“You are better?”
“Aye.”
“Who are you?”
Unicorn sighed.
“Who do ya see?”
“A Vampire. You look like a gargoyle. A stone statue with wings. You’re sitting on a crypt. You’re a statue come to life. Where are we? Why is there a crypt in the Inn?”
The Vampire helped Quaraun to a seat, then held his hand up to stop the barmaid for pouring Quaraun a drink. "He needs clear head right now," he said to the girl, then turned back to Quaraun. "Ya said before yar friend twere dead."
"He was dead. I think. I don't know. I'm confused."
"Ahyah. Ya are. Un ya has been ignoring, not wanting to see or hear, everything I has said last few days. Have ya not? Oh, me poor wee lil Elf. Ya messed up yar mind bad, did ya? Well, I stick pink flamingos that one up, which is it? Yar Unicorn? Is he dead or not?"
"I saw him die, but then later, I saw him alive, after he had died. He was you. You were him. You are Unicorn."
"That what I been saying."
"How are you Unicorn?"
"Yis Necromancer, did ya not resurrect me?"
"No! I didn't! I can't....I...I...I don't know...I... I can't remember."
"That horrible ritual, resurrecting dead, is it not? Ya said so yarself."
"It...yes...it is. It's a horrible ritual, it's why I've never done it. I can't do it. There's so much blood involved. I have no stomach for blood."
"Indeed. Nor ya any head for it. Put ya right out of yar mind it did, did it not?"
"You can't be Unicorn."
"Why not?"
"Unicorn's dead. I can't perform that ritual. I can't hurt anyone. I don't like hurting anyone. I help people. I can't hurt people. I've couldn't. I haven't."
"Have ya not?"
"No."
"Yar dreams should tell ya answer."
"My dreams are confused."
"Aye, they are. More then ya seem to be aware of."
"I am increasingly confused."
"How do ya see me?"
"What do you mean?"
"Last night ya saw me as Unicorn."
"Last night?...you...you raped me."
"Perhaps, but I tend to tinks not."
"How can you say that?"
"Because ya greatly enjoyed it un ya saw me as Unicorn. The man ya love. Ya made love to me. Un I is BoomFuzzy un ya gave permission to whatever I wanted to ya."
"You drugged me."
"That's what Faeries do. Masters in art of drug making. Mushrooms un frog slime un wee lil rainbows in yar pretty silver head."
"You're a Vampire."
"Am I?"
"You look like a Vampire."
"Un is dair anything to say that Faerie can'na become Vampire?"
"All things can become Vampires. I made Vampire chickens once. And Lich lichen."
"Did ya now?"
"Zombie cows, Geese Ghouls, cornstalk scarecrow golems, brain sucking ducks, blood thirsty rabbits, I have a whole barnyard of undead things in my..." Quaraun looked down at the beaded heart hanging from his belt.
"In yar gruesome wee lil bag of holding, where ya also keep all dead bodies of yar people, yar wife, yar children, Gibedon's head...even pet DracoLich."
"I'm evil."
"Yis Necromancer, yis supposed to be evil. Sooner ya accept fact that yis nothing but black hearted bastard better it'll be on all of us."
"I kidnapped a pirate ship."
"I know. I helped ya."
"There's an entire crew of men locked in bottle in my pocket."
"I killed the Katopas."
"Ahyah. I wanted to run away with them. I tinks ya resented that."
"I've killed the entire population of three villages."
"That shit load ton of people."
"I used to be peaceful. I wouldn't have hurt anyone. What happened to me?"
"BoomFuzzy died horrible death un ya found his body un it broke yar heart. Un ya stopped being Quaraun, kind loving wee lil Elf who let people push him around. Instead ya became, Quaraun de Insane, terror of world. Yis more feared now then Gibedon twere. Gibedon twere most feared Necromancer since Elf Eater of Pepper Valley, un I has seen ya do things, even Elf Eater can'na do. Yar heart grew evil while ya were'na looking."
Volume 8: Into The Swamp Of Death
Quaraun wakes up in The Mournful Lamb Inn, with no memory of who he is or how he got there. Every one tells him he arrived covered in blood and collapsed, but no one can answer any other questions, save a gargoyle-like beast of a vampire, who tells Quaraun he is dead by suicide and wanders through the Swamp of Death, the holding ground between life and death, heaven and hell. The holding grounds for people too good for hell but too evil for heaven, as well as the place where lost souls wander until they can be set free: The Mournful Lamb being the resting place for murder victims and suicide victims.
Confused and alone, Quaraun tries to leave the inn, only to discover a vast barrier around it prevents any one inside from getting out.
The vampire tells him the only way out is to look into his own memories and seek out the truth: seek for the three friends, who never travelled with you, answer the question: why do always travel alone.
Unlocking his past reveal a horrifying truth: BeaLuna the Gnome, Bullgaar the Dwarf, and BoomFuzzy the Unicorn were never there - figments of his warped imagination or ghosts of the past, he can't tell which, but in all this time no one but Quaraun has ever seen any of them, for they are all ghosts who now haunt their murderer.
TRIGGER WARNING
This novel is about a murder-suicide, in which the suicide victim is found still alive.
This novel contains references to and graphic depictions of cutting, intentional drug overdose, suicide attempts, dismemberment, murder, and beheadings.
Some of these scenes are included in the free-to-read-online sample chapters.
Reader discretion is advised.
Possibly NSFW
BDSM YAOI
TORTURE PORN
BARBED KNOTTING WARNING
This novel contains one of the most graphically detailed and brutally violent CBT barbed-knotting torture/sex/rape scenes of the entire series. No part of this scene is available free-to-read online.
Reader discretion is strongly advised.
NSFW
The sample chapters listed below equal about 1/10th of the novel. No additional chapters will be made available free to read online.
The Mournful Lamb Inn
Everyone Is Dead?
Where Are Your Friends?
The Valley of the Katopas (Part 1)
The Valley of the Katopas (Part 2)
The Witch Massimara Of Mount Yenka
TYPE: Long Novella/Short Novel
WORD COUNT: 61,449 words
PAGE COUNT: 164 printed paperback pages
POINT OF VIEW: third person; Quaraun’s point of view usually; a few times from Unicorn’s
HAPPY EVER AFTER? no, this volume does NOT have a happy ending; character death ending
CLIFFHANGER ENDING: Yes. Sort of. Almost. This volumes ends with a sort of “To Be Continued...” that doesn’t actually continue
CONTINUING SERIAL? Yes; this is volume 8 of 130
INTERRACIAL COUPLES? Yes; a white skinned cross-dressing male Elf and his black skinned male Phooka lover.
Genre: Dark Fantasy > Sword & Sorcery > Bizzarro > Literary
LITERARY FICTION WARNING: This entire series is Slice of Life Vignette Literary Fiction, meaning there’s a lot of dialogue, a lot of talking, a lot of thinking, a lot of monologue, and a lot of emotional introspective, but not much action going on in this heavily character driven series. Each story is a narrow focused look at a single event (often a single day or hour) in Quaraun's life.
 
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