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.
What is your favorite part of writing Monster Erotica/Porn?
[quote author=NAME REMOVED FOR BOOK PUBLICATION EDITION]What is your favorite part of writing monster erotica? [/quote]
I'd just like to comment on the fact that there is a differance between Monster Porn and Monster Erotica. Monster Porn encompasses, ALL stories invloving a character in a relationship with a monster, wither the story contains sex or not. Monster Erotica is a subgenre of Monster Porn and is Erotica with monsters.
My favorite part of writing?
The actual act of writing. I love to just sit and write. It's so peaceful and relaxing; it's almost like meditation. I like the whole repetitive motion of it. It doesn't really matter to me what I write as long as I'm writing something. Writing is my release from stress, something which I am in bad need of I'm afraid. Besides, I just love reading the stuff I write. Vanity? Yep. Here is an interesting thought. How many would actually want to read their own novel? You have written it out, pouring your very heart and soul into it; with your every fiber you have brought it to light, but would you read it? When you go out and buy a book to read, what kind of book is it? Do you read the same type of books as the one you wrote? Interesting thought. How many writers think about this I wonder?
why Monster Porn specifically? Monsters make me feel safe. I know that mat sound strange, but I've been hurt by a lot of people. Other then my brothers, who I don't see very often, there aren't any humans in my life, whom I trust. Every human I've ever trusted has turned their back on me, abandoned me, beat me, bullied me, and most of them have come right out and told me to my face they wanted me dead. I'm alone all day and all night. I don't have any friends. I have autism and no one wants to be friends with a retard, that's what they say to me. Everyone else, I am a Gypsy and no one wants to be friends with a Gypsy, they are too busy wanting me dead and beating me up.
I spend more time in the hospital from being beat up by humans, then I spend time outside of the hospital. I've been beaten up so bad, so many times, that I'm crippled now. I'll spend the rest of my life on a cane.
I have PTSD and do you know what one of the triggers is? Being in the presence of a human, especially a male human, is all it takes to trigger an attack these days.
Why do I write Monster Porn? Because I can't write human lovers. That's how bad the bullying has gotten. I can not look at a human male without fear taking over my whole body. That's how bad it has gotten. I can't read about human men in Romance books any more, without fear taking over my whole body. That's how bad it has gotten. I can't write a relationship between a human couple anymore, not without sending a monster into the story to tear the human man to shreads and rescue his lover and take her away from the hell that life is in the society of humans.
My cats and my dog are the only friends I have. I have no one else who loves me. I often just want to end my life. I only stay alive for my cats. I don't have any other reason to live. No one else loves me. No one else cares about me. If I died, right now, no one would notice. Not one person. I'd be dead for month, before anyone realized I was even missing.
My favorite part of writing Monster Porn? Being able to write myself as the character of a book, where I can find someone who loves me. I know that humans don't love me. I stopped hoping there was someone who loved me, years ago. I have no hope of ever being loved by anyone. I know that hoping for someone to want to love me, is an impossible dream. That is why I get so lost in writing Monster Porn. Monsters aren't real, so monsters can't hurt me. Monsters are not human, and so there is no barrier to the hope that a monster could love me. Being able to leave this world for a few hours each day, and enter into an imaginary world where humans can't hurt me and monsters protect me from the evil humans, is the only real happiness I've had in years. There is only one happiness in life: To love and to be loved in return. I've loved so much and that love has never been returned. It's nice to go away into a world in a book and feel loved by someone, even if they aren't real.
You see, I have the inability to see men as anything other then men really are: monsters.
Never forget that once upon a time, I was the 12 year old obsession of a pedophile priest. And went I tried to get help, I was told I deserved it because I must have wanted, and he was promoted to a temple worker. Today he is the High Priest Quarum leader of the Sanford Ward of the Exatar Stake Center of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, in Sanford, Maine, and one of the temple priests at the Boston Temple. And the year they made him leader of that congregation was the year I started writing Monster Porn.
- Men don't care about children.
- Men only care about themselves, their lusts, and saving their own reputations.
- Men don't care who they hurt.
- Men hurt children.
- Men are monsters who rape children.
- Men are monsters who beat women.
- Men are monsters who lie.
- Men are monsters and I have no ability to form any sort of atraction to them.
- Men are vile, evil beasts.
My Romance heroes are not, but rather the monsters who kill men, to to save children, by ridding the world of the vile existence of Human men. Human men are creature I loath.
And I write Monster Porn, so that I can glorify in watching men have their heads ripped off by the monsters who come in the night to rescue the women and children men hurt. That's why my Monster Porn is so bloody and violent. That's why my Monster Porn is Horror, not Erotica.
That's the thing most people don't understand about me and my books. People, other authors, are always asking me why I don't market my books. saying things like: "why write if not for money?" or "why bother to write if you don't try to get people to read it?"
But the thing of it is, I'm not writing for money, I'm not writing for readers. I'm writing for me.
I'm writing so that I have a place I can go every day, to escape from the world I live in. I'm not writing for money. I'm not writing for readers.
I'm writing, because I have no friends, no one to spend time with, no one to talk to, I have Autism, I have no freedom, I'm trapped living with caretakers who don't take care of me and only take what they want from me, I'm trapped with men who don't care about my feelings, don't care about anything, they don't care about my health or my safety or my cats, I've been this man's property - bought and paid for, to be his sex slave, since I was 12 years old - and the only way I can keep from going mad, is to create imaginary friends to spend time with me in my books and monsters to rid the world of the men I have no escape from.
I'm not writing for money.
I'm not writing to give readers what they want.
I'm writing, because it's the only thing I have to live for. Writing is the only joy there is in my life.
Writing is my only escape from the hell I have to live with every day.
That's why I write every day.
Not because this is a career, but because I need someone to talk to, and the only people I have to talk to are the characters in my books.
People ask me why I'm so damned good at writing the Master/slave relationship so accurately: it's because I live it.
This isn't some stupid, BDSM fetish game for me.
I am a slave. Slaves do exist. I don't have the freedom to come and go as I please.
I can write the terror of forced sex, the heartache of forced sex, the hurt, the pain, the emotion, the agony, with such vivid clarity, because you are looking at my very real emotions.
I don't don't have to pretend and imagine what it must feel like to be the sex slave prisoner of a monster, because, I live it. I've lived it since I was 12 years old.
You REALLY think you want to write Monster Porn like I do? I don't really think you do. I don't think you have any idea what drives me to write the stories I write. Chances are, you couldn't even begin to comprehend me life. Do you know, I've been a prisoner so long, since I was so young, that when I did escape and get away, I was completely unable to function in normal society.
Psychologists called me a feral child.
I was 31 years old and I had no ability to communicate normally or function in American society.
The doctors said they had never seen a case of child abuse so extensive as mine. I'm not able to live on my own. I have no social skills or training in how to interact with humans.
Since I was 12 years old, I've one thing and one thing only: sexually satisfying that man. That and writing are the only two skills I have. They were going to put me in a mental institute, because I'm so extremely unable to take care of myself, and so I went back to him, because what little freedom I do have with him, is a lot more freedom then I would have had in American society where I would have been locked away in hospital and no longer allowed to write or see my cats.
I have learned to accept the fact, that I am useless and serve no purpose in life other then to satisfy this man, that because of what he did to me, I am now unwanted, abandoned, unloved, and hated by American society. I don't write Monster Porn for the money or the fame or the readers, I write it because it's all I have left. It's that or suicide. There's no other options. There's no other escape from this world I live in.
And so, my favorite part of writing Monster Porn, is making new friends, having people to talk to, having someone who cares about me, even if they aren't real. At least it keeps alive. I don't know why I want to stay alive, not really. It's not that I actually want to die, it's just that I want the pain to go away. I want to believe that somewhere out there, is someone who cares about me. Someone who doesn't want me just for sex. Someone who can love me without touching me. I don't like being touched, I really don't.
I always hear people saying they wished they were pretty. You don't want to be pretty. You really don't. It's a curse. Men will always be after you. They won't stop touching you. I know. Everyone tells me I'm the most beautiful person they've ever seen, and it's always quickly followed by talk of wanting to bed with me, hug me, kiss me, touch my hair, touch my face, fuck me... I just wish, that for once, someone could look at me and see past what I look like. I wish someone could love me, without the desire the fuck me. Don't try to be pretty. Believe me, you don't want the life of hell that comes with it. Men won't leave me alone. Ever since I was 8 years old men have been groping me. Since I was 12 they've been fucking me. I write Monster porn, because men are monsters, and I want monsters to be real so they can take men away from me.
In my mind, fictional monsters are far safer then real live Human men.
Have you ever noticed I NEVER write Human couple sex scenes?
Now you know why.
 
|
 
|
 
|
|
| |
|
Ads by Amazon |
|
| |
|
Ads by Amazon |
|
|