Challenge Yourself -Asylum After Dark – The Remedy by Crimson Quintessence

Counting The Days To Insanity

Counting The Days To Insanity

The Challenge:   The power just went out and all Asylum doors are unlocked.

The power just went out and all Asylum doors are unlocked.
Tonight my horrible honeys I’ve made you a murderer.
You writing challenge is this:
A short story or poem.
You get 1 chance to commit only 1 murder.
Make it count…

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Sit there, if you will,

whimpering in your dark little corner.

I can hear your knees knocking together from here on my perch.

Your yellow drug-stained teeth, rattling together like a broken awning swinging in high winds.

I can even hear the rush of air from your sphincter clenching shut.

Guess that worries you some, considering where you house your head most of your waking hours.

My heels click as I stride across the marble floor having jumped from my perched observation point in the house, echoing in your ears like rapid-fire shots out of a machine gun.

My face calm, my breath slow and steady, tapping my favorite weapon of choice in my left palm, licking my lips in anticipation of the assault you’re about to receive.

Sit still!

squirming coward, your movements will only make your punishment last longer.  

No matter to me, I’d enjoy the delay and your cries of agony.

I smirk as I remember how I got you here.

You thought midnight romp.

I knew something far different.

When I ripped the cord of the lamp from the west wall I didn’t think of the lamps weight, not at all.

In fact, it happened so fast I’m not sure I registered thought much at all.

But, I felt, oh, how I felt.

Rage,

a searing heat, 

it rose from deep inside me.

Explosive!

ravenous almost.

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I swung that lamp at your head like a professional baseball player swinging at his last-chance grand-slam in the world series.

Carr-aaack!

The hit heard around the world,

and just like that,

blood-spatter, and out you went.

Dragging your lanky-ass over to Nana’s wing-back chair came easy to me.

There was so much adrenaline coursing through me, I felt like a freight-train on full-throttle, no brakes.

The barbed-wire was fun, wrapping it around you like a python wraps itself around its prey.

Almost made me orgasmic,

then you twitched and took my moment from me.

Son-of-a-bitch!

Still, you try to take control.

But that’s okay,

I’m not upset,

not about that any way.

I’m going to take my time with you my dear, oh, yes, I am.

I remember that first night when we were at Dale’s party.

You said you had a surprise for me and took me upstairs.

Then, like the pig you are, you dropped your pants and I said wow, that’s my surprise, you brought me up here to show me a penis?

Yes, you said, with a smart-ass grin on your face.

Then you changed your tone and said well?

I said well what?

And you and your arrogant tongue spit out — Wax it.

How vile I thought, but we both know that I left my teeth marks in your dick that night,

don’t we darling?

Look at you, all dressed up like mommy’s little blonde cherub.

Too bad she doesn’t know what a nasty little cunt of a man you really are.

But I’m going to remedy that, I’ll show her on your behalf when I fillet you and pose you like an awkward statue impaled on a spigot and run through on your front lawn.

Hannibal would be so proud to know me right now.

You my dearest have been weighed and measured and you’ve been found wanting.

This will be the remedy of all remedies.

A song for all melodies.

Your undoing.

Your fate.

Lifeless, like the squished slug by the garden gate.

Gone and forgotten.

Dust in the wind.

My arms raised,

the blows came,

the remedy delivered.

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The Lure by Crimson Quintessence

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Cast the line

with baited hook

a glancing eye

a fatal look.

The hunter swift

circles its prey

devour another

day after day.

Cunning and slick

but the prey gets wise

slips from the trap

uncovering the hunter’s blind of disguise.

Freedom at last

blindfold removed and nothing obscure

eyes open wide fashioning new haute couture

ready for a long winter’s nap

far away from the lure.

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Blue Requiem by Tony Norton

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Towering skyscrapers
swaying on graphene pontoons
bob on ebbing nodding tides.
Grey, It had been raining constantly for the 4 years since they built the flotillas.
Built after the great flood
Built after the global war.
Colossal Mountain ranges were now at sea level.
Massive holes had been punched
in the ozone layer and raw radiation seeped in through the atmosphere.
Critically any hyper exposure to the now searing sun could and often did prove fatal.
The world was searing hot with water everywhere.
An incredible increased level of technology
Has now enabled man an ability to make a conscious connection with the Whales of the Seas.
Shamefully the Whales showed humanity what it had done to the planet and highlighted the error of its ways. The Whales had brought forth the connection of the human soul.
They had awoken again the long-lost ability to make spiritual connections.
Hundreds of generations of lost unfulfilled souls now had missed lifetimes of revelatory catching up to do.
By re energising exercises on the pineal gland The Whales became the shaman to human spiritual enlightenment. New age prophets ushering in the golden age of duality.
Many followers began worshipping the Whales.
Hundreds of buzzing hover taxis ferried the herds
of Devotees from flotillas to the hypersonic hydrofoils waiting to jet the off for their aqua sonic inter continental pilgrimages to the Whale bed temples.
A global Aqua police force were formed to keep law and order in this New World of Water.
Hydrogen had become the fuel of choice which was in abundance and extracted from the water in extraction plants. Huge blue oxygen bubbles, a by-product of the chemical process were released constantly into the atmosphere like huge hot air balloons floating up in the blue horizons.
Blue sea, blue sky, blue planet.

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Abe had been lucky to only witness the last year of the war. He had worked in munitions until the melting of the poles brought about the great flood and an abrupt end to the war. In biblical proportions countries were flooded and drowned. Eighty percent of the world now lay under water. Humans fled to the mountains but they became impossibly crowded. That’s when the global corporations joined and formed the Aqua Alliance and started building their floating cities.

War had brought about much change. Connection with the Whales brought about duality between form and spirit.
Body and Soul..at One.. whole..
The new mantra for the new age.
It became the obsession…to find yourself.
Firstly there were only a few who perfected astral travel. Out of body experience where a person was able to reconnect with the ultimate consciousness. At first only painfully committed meditation could achieve the desired state.
Gurus came back with tales of wonder and an insight into the fabulous potential of connection.
They were examined in laboratory conditions, alpha brain waves monitored and they could be seen spiking off the monitoring chart.
Tests revealed that in the catatonic state the levels of the hormone DMT in the travellers blood were seen to be through the roof. Scientists quickly worked out the heightened state could be achieved by administering the drug DMT. The problem was this. The amount of DMT required, if administered directly into the blood stream caused aneurysms and heart attacks.
Swallowed, it caused nausea and vomiting but worked much better. Then the breakthrough …if it was mixed with a specific, organic substance, one that was biodegradable and kind to the human gut it worked fantastically . That substance was ambergris – whale vomit – the Holy Grail. Ambergris is solid, waxy, flammable substance of a dull grey or blackish colour produced in the digestive system of sperm whales. It was often found with squid beaks in it, hinting that it was used as a lubricator to aid the Whales digestion.
Mixing DMT with ambergris formed the perfect pellet They seemed to perfectly compliment each other. A marriage literally born in the waves of heaven.
Astral projection now became available to the masses.
Enlightenment brought again as a by-product of the interaction with the Whales.

Abe had been in awe of the Whales since the revelation at the end of the war. He had heard of the pilgrimages to the Whales beds and the connections, and the stories of wonder and the sessions of pure love. He had studied them. He had saved up his global currency credits (GCC’s) with a view to making the pilgrimage to the Whale beds and to enlightenment.

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The day of his trip had arrived.

Abe at twenty-eight was one of the lucky ones. Many generations of his age group had either been killed or maimed in the global war. He had worked in the graphene factory since the end of the war and lived frugally. He had a modest apartment on the 121st floor of a flotilla apartment. He particularly enjoyed reading books, particularly the classics. He was currently reading Brave New World by Aldous Huxley and found it eerily close to the modern truth. Indeed an epsilon he, longed to join the pilgrimage to the Temples of the Whales on the Southern tip of the Americas, which was now Uruguay as Argentina was drowned.
Today was the day….four years saving…it had finally arrived.

He put on a baseball cap as his thinning mousey brown hair was no match for the searing sun.
Nervously he climbed aboard the water taxi, which ferried him to the floating quayside where the Hydrofoil was moored.
He was nervous, excited, anxious and apprehensive all in one go. Four seasons in one day he thought. He had booked two weeks off from work and couldn’t wait to escape.

The water taxi silently moved through the choppy water with two others on board. The unforgiving sun shone cruelly in the balmy salty atmosphere.
The air was charged with expectations.

The taxi pulled up and moored at the quayside.
The three travellers disembarked and headed to the Ocean Control office to check in. Papers in order the shuffled along to the departure lounge. There were three armed Aqua police officers standing guard but the atmosphere was one of excited expectations. The was the familiar babble of crowds and the buzz of excited conversation filled the departure lounge. All the pilgrims were dressed in the blue garb of ocean worship, Abe included. Most of the pilgrims were older wanting the absolution of connection before passing across. Abe, on the other hand felt he was answering a calling.

All boarded and settled into their travel pods the hydrofoil’s hydrogen engines whistled into life. Abe felt the ship raising up above the waves as the hum of the electromagnets droned into life. He set the Pod clock to 15 hrs and a little pill popped out of the dispensing draw at the bottom. Pill popped he drifted off to sleep.
He began to dream…

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Drifting
Creeping… Fever ….Virus…Hot …Salt…. Sweat
Eyes Burning…Head Bursting
Blue..So So Much..Blue..
Waves of Nausea
Waves of Water
Waving
Washing
Over Abe’s Minds Eye
Opening Wide
Blind
But
Seeing All
Ears Burning
Tearing Tinnitus
Din of Delirium
Piercing Painful Prophetic Crys
Haunting Squeals of a Whale
Leviathan of Dynamic Proportions
He
Appears to Abe
Shivering in his Altered State
He is afraid of Him
He know’s He is the Truth
Wants to look away
Cannot…..fixed.

Abe knows he is to blame….

Cold Cold Ocean
Greys and Blues and Blacks
And back to Greys
Clicks and howwwwwwwwls
Squeeeeeeeeeks and waiiiiils
Cacophony
Cochlear Assault
Pure Pain

He is to blame…

Then
As Clear as day
Connection..
Images blue burst to life
Awakens
Resonating in Abe’s Minds Eye
Explodes
Every Shade of the Bluest of Blue
Every Shade of Sadness
Every Feeling that Blue Can Bring

Shamefully Abe is to blame

Sweet Shoals of Plankton
Poisoned
Soured -Septic
Canyons
Cracks in the Crust of Ocean Floor
Splitting Atoms
Invoking Earthquakes
Man Playing for Power
Man Playing God
God blames Man
In Biblical Proportions

Abe is to blame

Fetid Fukishima Fish Floating as Flotsam
Deep Dark Dead Seas
Deep Dark Depths of Despair
He wants to wake
Please
Hypnotically the Whale Holds Him tranced
Holds The Vista
Sea Sick
Nautical Nausea
So much PAIN
He wants to wake

He knows he is firmly to blame

Whale
Shows Him All
Shows Abe Despair
Salt Sea
So Saline from a Million Crying Tears

Family’s of Whales
Driving
Swimming Suicidally Hard
Onto Bone Yard Beaches
Young Calves Carcasses
Out for Cackling Cawing Carrion
Please
Abe cries out….
“I want to wake
I’m So So Sorry
Please
Let Me WAKE”

Finally Feverishly Fever
Subsides
Whale Wails Pitifully
Abe realises
Pity is
For Him
Blinks a Tearful Gaze
Nods his Huge Head
Swims off
Into the Blue Blue Yonder
Swims Away
Hope Swims with Him

Abe wakes
With a fearful dread
Knowing
He carries the blame

The hydrofoil’s hydrogen engine came to a whining stop and in his semi awakened state he felt the ship slowing down, coming to its destination. He felt very vulnerable after his nightmare and apprehensive about the visit to come, when he would go face to face with the real Whales…ones that could read his fragile mind.

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Part 2

As he shuffled down off the hydrofoil down the metallic gangway a booming message came over the tannoy…
“Please respect this Holy place…
could you please maintain a silence on the monorail journey to your hotel”

As he left the metal scanner and the heavily armed Aqua police he wondered to himself why in such a holy place there was the need for guards?Then he remembered he was human, and what humans had already done and what they are capable of.
A big red neon sign flashed
Silence Please
With a heavy sigh he boarded the monorail. The monorail took a vertical right angle to the harbour area and climbed steeply upwards at a slow steady pace. As it climbed higher and higher up the grassy cliff face Abe felt his ears pop. Rain trickled back down the window at wavering forty-five degree angles in opposite direction to the cars journey. A nagging seed of doubt came to Abe…he put the nausea down to the travel pill and being tired. He felt…..sad?
As the monorail levelled at the cliff top it seemed to then defy gravity and the track, actually suspended in the air, went out across the bay.
The view was breathtaking.
Although commercialised, the bay below was stunning. Pods of humpback whales frolicked in the especially dug out cove. About five miles in circumference, dug out of the shale bedrock, it was was a deep chlorine green coloured harbour. There were especially manufactured groins stretching out to sea which were strategically interspersed by small lighthouses with huge whale docking ports underneath them.
Abe immediately knew in his heart he was indeed at the right place.
The monorail came back over the other side of the grassy cliff again and headed downwards to his impressive looking futuristic hotel.
Abe checked in, picked up his bags from the carousel and headed for his room. Tomorrow would be the best day of his life but tonight he was too tired to even contemplate it. Getting into his room without unpacking, he literally crawled into the bed and drifted off into a deep deep uninterrupted sleep.

He woke, early, excited, nervous, anxious. Went to breakfast, still no words spoken.
He Ate his dry toast heartily but there wasn’t butter as there was a “strictly no dairy” sign as this interfered with the ambergris and DMT ingestion.
Meeting at reception with all the others, he was handed a booklet. Still no words. He was also given a prism quartz key, with docking bay 7.
That was to be his pod…destiny had spoken.
Another monorail from the hotel to the quayside and then on to the travellator out along the groine to pod lighthouse 7. The rest of the travellers had gleeful looks on their faces but still, no words were spoken.
He entered the lighthouse and was instructed in sign language to sit in the waiting area and read the instructions.
He sat, and waited, and waited. One hour passed. He began to feel nervous again. Anxious. He wondered had they forgotten him. Should he go and find someone. He decided to wait and just enjoy the peace and quiet it afforded him. As soon as he relaxed the door opened and a small bald man entered the room. It said Roy on his badge.
In hushed tones he introduced himself.
Hello Abe… I am Roy…I am your valet…welcome to Cathedral Bay… I will be assisting your connection to the Whales and subsequent journey to consciousness, should the Whales deem you worthy”

The balding boffin led the way down a series of metal steps which looked like a Bond villains lair. He placed a metal scull cap onto Abe’s head and led him to sit on what looked like a lifeguards chair. The chair was on hydraulics and began moving out over the water. Abe was now, strapped in and in a horizontal position laying down facing the water. The next thing a huge bell chimed across the whole of the bay and the glass doors of all the lighthouses opened.

In swam the leviathan. He was enormous. Barely fitting in the hanger. He swam straight over to Abe. Abe was scared…staring straight into his huge Whale eye.
His leathery grey skin was gnarly wrinkled and encrusted with barnacles.
Whale let out a guttural growl.
All of a sudden….Abe understood.
The transponder on his head translated….he was communicating with a Whale….
Why You Here!!…boomed the question?
Abe was so so scared…
For answers…said Abe…
The Whale let out a piercing sqeeeeeak…
Answers” You already have…was the translation.
Another squeal…
Battle begins within….
Battle only you can win….
A loud wailing sigh…
Transponder translates
Pure Proceed…
Whale blinks his huge eye at Abe and swims off….
Leaving a bemused Abe in his foamy wake.
It was over….so so quickly.

Abe was slowly dragged back to the vertical and back to the walkway by hissing pneumatics.

Roy unstrapped him….

Well how was it….? Asked Roy.

Terrifying…said Abe…
Exhilarating and Terrifying….he said now laughing hysterically.

Well said Roy, that was the boring part…. smiling …

Now for the real fun…

Roy led Abe up the stairs to a laboratory room.
Still wearing the transponder he lay Abe onto what looked like a psychiatrists couch.

Please take this, said Roy and handed him a pill the size of a lozenge, with a cup of water to wash it down.
Abe took the DMT….

Lie back, relax, close your eyes and count back from 10 to 1 …… Relax and enjoy….Roy’s voice faded in the distance

10,
9,
8,
Abe felt reality……melt.
Gravity
Falling Away to weightlessness
Abe was floating
In the air…
No…
In the ocean
Blues
Everywhere
Surrounded by Whales
Sea gave way to sky
Skies of the purest blue
Hues of blue
Dark to light
Light blue
To pale watercolour blue
Blue blush to creamy white
White to brilliant white
To dazzling light
To starlight
Nuclear white
Sirius
Pure
Ancient
Calling
Calling Abe
Abe now
Hurtling headlong
Down a tunnel of brilliant light
A screaming cacophony of sonic air-filled his ears
Spinning Super hypersonic speeds
Then
Accompanied
By Drones
Huge Bee like insects
Like fighter jet planes
Accompanying him into their air space
White white white
Suddenly …white
bursts into kaleidoscopic colour
Prism
Rainbows
Now
Flying in
over the hive
All eyes turn skyward
Abe feels the colony welcoming him
Abe feels
Love
Pure un bounding love
He flies
Deeper into the hive
Deeper and deeper
Deeper into the Love
His spiritual body
Starts to unravel
Organs down to cells down to atoms
Down
Down to a single helix of DNA
Standing now
In front of the Queen
In awe
In complete connection
To Her Divine consciousness
She splices his DNA
Removing two chromosomes
She manoeuvres around him
So that her stinger
Is hovering above him
In his altered state
Abe feels no fear
Abe feels no pain
Only pure love
She moves her ovipositor into position
She lays two new strands of chromosomes
Into the missing space
The Queen nods
Abe nods in gratitude
Abe feels altered
And at a million miles an hour
Outside of Space and Time
Instantaneously
The journey is reversed

He wakes with a jolt
Back in the laboratory
Altered
He immediately wants to go back
Far out in the bay he hears the faint squeeeeek and squeal of the Whale
Transponder still on his head translates
Undo the Hurt

Half in this world
Half connected he sees the face of Jim Morrison
Hovering above his bed
Singing
“When the music’s over…”
The lyrics swimming in his fuzzy head

“Cancel my subscription to the Resurrection”

I want to hear…..the scream of the butterfly..

Morrison now towering as the Lizard King
Menacingly Screaming…

With your ear down to the ground
We want the world and we want it…
We want the world and we want it…
Now
Now?
Now!

Abe shivering and sweating sat bolt upright….
Roy handed him a bucket and he was violently sick…

He had now seen pure love, witnessed the violent war of the last four years and still he sees the greed of man still destroying the Earth.

Abe felt ashamed. The words of the Whale still ringing
Undo the hurt.

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Part 3

Ears still ringing and the transponder still firmly fixed Abe felt giddy. He tried to rise up from the bed but Roy his valet shouted…
“ Hey slow down Sir….not so fast….you’ve not come back around properly yet”
Abe lay back on the bed.
He sensed something was wrong…..very wrong.
He saw a look of panic in Roy’s eyes….darting to the door and darting back to Abe.
Immediately, in an instant, Abe saw the needle in Roy’s hand. He looked up and saw the bright red warning light flashing silently. The transponder on his head detected a loud Whale shriek far from the bay below…
SHREEEEIIIIIII…….RUN!!
Immediately Abe found his fingers grasping the quartz prism key from his pocket, firmly in his fist. He brought it speeding up in a wide powerful arc, just as Roy bent over him to administer more drugs. He struck him on the temple with a sickening blow. Felled, Roy tried to stand, but his legs had completely buckled. Falling again, he lost consciousness, in a pool of expanding blood.
Abe, head still spinning, got to his feet and headed to the door. The door flung open and in ran two guards.
Abe was prepared.With an open palm strike he felled the first guard with a chop to the throat. The speed of the strike coupled with the guards momentum shattered the guard’s trachea and he dropped instantly to the floor gasping for breath and clutching his throat. The second guard was swiftly upon him and began to raise his weapon to take aim at Abe.
Abe instinctively grabbed the barrel of the gun and snapped a kick out hard into the guards groin. He let out a guttural groan and folded in half, releasing his grip on the gun. With the guards head now at his waist height Abe brought down the butt of the rifle onto the nape of the guards neck, with a bone cracking crunch. The guard fell to the floor, twitching in convulsing spasms. Abe cast a glance back at the flashing screen on the monitor, the words, genetically modified were flashing in red, on the cursor screen.
Abe knew, if he stayed, he was a dead man.
His throat, dry as a bone, felt constricted with panic.
He removed the transponder from his throbbing head, throwing it down to the floor.
He began to run towards the door of the lighthouse. Outside on the metal walkway, he blended in with the ecstatic crowds making their way back from their own whale experiences.
He knew he couldn’t go back to his hotel room, for the aqua police would be waiting for him.
He scanned the bay, looking for possible escape routes.
He wondered why had he triggered the alarms? Why they felt he was a threat? What the fuck was he going to do now? Why him?
The words of the Whale echoed in his mind
“Battle begins within….
Battle only you can win….”

It seemed to bolster his mettle. He gathered his thoughts together with a steely purpose.
He would, he decided, go down fighting.
The whispering words of the whale were there in the back of his altered mind….

Undo the hurt.

He set off, up the cliff side, towards the shaman village a mile or two inland from the cove. Hopefully, there he might at last find some answers.

He knew he would have to travel fast. Soon the drones would be up looking for him. He had to get answers.
On his climb up the hill, his thoughts began to drift again. He realised that it would be unlikely he would escape the authorities. Prison at best, death at worst. He turned back around to scan the horizon. He saw the whales swimming in the bay below. He saw the sun shining through the drizzle, rainbows forming in arcs.
He thought about his connection, about the hive and about the feeling of pure unadulterated love.
All of a sudden, he was scared no more. He knew love awaited his end and there was nothing to fear but fear itself.
He turned around and headed up the hill with a renewed spring in his step, the warm drizzle hazing his view ahead.
After about two miles of flat fields at the top of the cliffs Abe came across the mud huts of the shaman village. They had set up close to the coast, as they worshipped the whales..
As he headed towards the village a big black barking dog came woofing over giving away his real intentions with his wagging tail.
Abe headed into the village. He was quickly met by a very sturdy man who came over to speak to him…
“Hello…I am Cal….we have been waiting for you….come quickly ….time is short.
Cal was thick-set and looked like a Romany type gypsy.
He greeted Abe. Abe was so pleased that he spoke English.
Cal hurried Abe over to one of the huts at the end of the row.

In the round mud hut there were around twenty or so people sitting around a centre fire. There was a gloomy orange glow and the flickering orange flames danced shadows of the dark earthen walls. There was a heady smokey atmosphere as all the people sat in silence. Abe felt a little uneasy. As his eyes acclimatised to the gloomy umber glow he began to focus in on faces. There were women, children and adults all sitting in a circle. At the head of the circle was the shaman. Cal walked Abe around and sat him down next to the sage.
In front of the old man was a pot of boiling plant material giving off a bitter pungent aroma. Abe guessed that this was ayahuasca a native plant to this part of the world and rich in DMT.
The old man took Abe’s hand….his eyes rolled white in his eyes.
He let off a chant…the whole circle repeating the words in unison.
All the people now bowed to Abe.
Abe looked at Cal for answers, he bowed too.
The old man began a slow mantra.
With every word he could physically feel the adoration in the room growing and growing.
Please…said Abe…I don’t understand, what is he saying
Cal said, I will translate..

Mother Queen says you are He
Reconciler of Heaven and Earth,
The bridge of love.
Mother Queen…She has blessed You,
Reconfigured your DNA with loves intervention.
Your heart is pure to carry the code.
Love now runs in your veins.
Look to your heart…the path lies there.
You know what to do to undo the hurt.

The old mans eyes came back into his head just as the deafening whine of the trapper drones filled the air.
Search lights zip zagged in the night sky. Abe knew if he stayed here they would send the arrest bots and everyone here would be at risk.
Cal, sensing they were all in danger led Abe to a trap door at the back of the hut. In the hole was a small tram like trolley. Cal gestured to Abe to lie on it face down. Cal gave Abe a jewel encrusted dagger. It was beautiful, obviously worth a lot of money, and razor-sharp. Abe was just about to protest when Cal leaned over, showed Abe the brake, released it, and Abe began to trundle off into the darkness. The trolley began to pick up pace in the darkness. Faster and faster. The path through the tunnel was winding twisting and turning , left and right at breakneck speeds reminding Abe of the luge event at the Winter Olympics. The journey was in complete darkness. Abe had no idea what was ahead. All of a sudden Abe literally saw a light at the end of the tunnel. He reached for the break but he was travelling so fast it was too late. As he hit the light he was airborne. He felt the cold of the night and the drizzle hit his lungs.
In the moonlight he could see a large body of water about five feet below him. He hit the water hard, and immediately gasped at its freezing cold temperature. He began swimming the short distance to the shore. He crawled out onto the bank of the reservoir, teeth chattering, shivering all over.
Lying on his back, looking up at the stars he began to think of the words of the shaman.

You know what to do….undo the hurt?

He didn’t, not a clue.
He got to his feet and followed the path of the water down the valley.

He could see in the moonlight the cliff top in front of him.
All of a sudden he heard the whine of the drones and their search lights lit up the night sky.

He began to run but there was no cover.
As he ran faster, the drone honed in on him. He felt it hovering above him, the blinding lights hurting his eves.
The drone swooped down and its mechanical arms gripped around his waist.With the hiss of hydraulics he felt its clutch tighten. He was swooped up into the air up and out over the bay. He knew in his heart of hearts he was a dead man. He felt the daggers hilt in his waistband. He saw the silvery light of the moon reflected in the waters below. He pulled out the dagger and cut through the hydraulic pipe to the mechanical claw.
There was a squirt of hot oily fluid and a loud pssssssssss. He felt the grip of the right hand arm loosening. He knew if he wriggled to is right into the space he had created that the left hand grip couldn’t hold him alone. He knew by doing this he would fall the hundred plus foot into the bay below.
He fell.
As he smacked hard into the ice-cold water he knew.
This was it.
There was no escaping this.
He had no fear.
He took the dagger, ceremoniously to his throat.
Smiling, he ran the razor-sharp blade across his carotid artery. Blood oozed out of his wound into the water.
He closed his eyes just as Mother Queen welcomed him into her six outstretched arms.
Smiling , he knew, he had undone the hurt.
Krill began feeding in the fresh blood. Fish began eating the krill. Bigger fish began eating the smaller fish.
Abe’s genetics were seeding the ocean. The modified chromosomes were not broken down on digestion. They became concentrated and expanded exponentially.
Within 50 years the ocean was filled with pure love.
Within 100 years a silent revolution had occurred. Governments had become one government and one agenda, to make a harmonious reconciliation with Mother Nature.
Within 200 years the planet was healed, filled with pure all-encompassing love.
The Reconciliation had occurred.

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Original written work of Tony Norton  

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Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

**Click on any Image to redirect to the images webpage/designer where it has been provided.
All images are found using Google Image Search and are not always labelled
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The Lifting of the Veil by Tony Norton

Lifting The Veil

Lifting The Veil


Petite Mal…the Dr said.
Quite common, a mild problem and nothing to worry about.
Joel had suffered with this malaise for all of his adult teenager years without ever giving it a name. Now, he felt relieved. The CAT scan confirmed that there was no underlying tumour or anything more sinister causing the problem. His latest bout had brought him and his parents frantically rushing to the E.R rooms as it was longer and deeper than any of the others he had had. He had dealt with the issue, up until now, like every other red-blooded male and chose to ignore it, hoping that it would just go away of its own accord.He had put the fear to the back of his mind, and carried on, regardless. Being a gangly gothic teenager, Joel’s mood swings were expected as the norm so he could, up until now, hide his illness behind his distant persona.
Petite Mal…..the demon named. He began, obsessively researching the web for anything and everything to do with it. He found that there were different severities of it. Some of the most gifted people on earth suffered from it. Illustrious names like Vincent Van Gogh, Isaac Newton, Charles Dickens and Leonardo Da Vinci to name but a few. Recently his episodes had become more intense. This was helping him understand and come to terms with his illness. Maybe, looking at the list of sufferers, it was not an illness, but a gift?
The Monday Morning train journey was the one he hated the most. Cramped carriages full of the walking dead. Soulless zombies, devoid of life, immersed in their digital self. All plugged in with auroras of”fuck off” radiating off them. The soft drizzle added to the ambience. The sort of grey blown rain that teases and probes its way into every nook and every cranny, soaking souls into reluctant submission. The coughing and spluttering a result of urgent germs taking to the air in order to spread their purposeful offspring. As usual, by the time the train got to Joel’s stop, there was no room for him to sit. He stood, teetering and shifting his position every time the train took a bend. On this dark winter morning, he couldn’t even seek solace by looking out of the window as the pitch black backdrop just gave him a duplicate reflected image of the miserable carriage he was travelling in.
The forty minute journey to University would be a very long forty minutes.
Suddenly the train jerked. Joel fell forward, grabbed the bar above the seats and then….. it happened.

Suspended animation.

The whole carriage, frozen in time. All except Joel. Every person in the carriage paused in a Munch style scream. Their faces twisted and contorted in despair and agony. Joel’s eyes darted from face to face, all of them the same, petrified. All except a grey haired old man at the back of the carriage. He smiled and doffed his black cap to Joel. He could see the fear in Joel’s eyes.
“Don’t worry Boy” he called out. It’s the lifting of the Veil.
You are blessed My Boy …you are a SoothSayer…a rare commodity these days”
A million questions flooded into Joel’s mind…however, his tongue simply wouldn’t work.
“Beware the Code Writers …My Boy…if they find you..they will get you…they will get you programming the future. They will cube and square route your freewill.
“But…why is everyone in so much pain?” asked Joel.
“Behind the Veil, the Code Writers ensure that everybody has a life of angst and turmoil” said the old man. It’s for them, the Masters, the Archangel’s. They feed off the pain. It’s the misery and woe that gives them life.
“But what……
The next thing the train lurched forward again, and Joel was back in the carriage. He looked around, everyone, all blissfully unaware. The Old Man, in the corner, no longer there. In his place, an androgynous man, with a laptop, furiously typing. He looked up and stared straight through Joel, with a knowing cold clinical look that sent a shiver right through him. He knew that Joel knew, and Joel knew his life would never be the same again.
And so the Chase had begun….

From that moment on Joel saw the Code Writers everywhere. Subtly they stood out like a sore thumb. Always of a similar ilk, androgynous and always with a technological gadget in their hand. Furiously typing, coding, re writing the immediate future. The futures of those they came into contact with. Joel knew they knew he noticed them. He felt very uneasy whenever he saw one of them. He never stayed around long enough to find out why. He became very fearful of having another episode. Not knowing what could happen if the veil slipped again. He had so so many questions. He was fearful of using the net to answer his questions too. Even the dark web presented him with a very big element of risk. He needed some answers.
Joel decided to visit a run down second-hand bookstore that some of the students used to trade in their textbooks. He vaguely remembered that in the musty fusty old basement there was a section on mythology magic and the supernatural. He wrote down some bullet points, Archangel’s, the Veil, inter dimensional beings, the usual science fiction. Except, Joel knew in his Heart of Hearts it was not. Not Fiction at all. This was the most scary thing…this was actually happening.
Joel caught the bus into the centre of the city. He began to notice. He noticed people more and he noticed numbers much more. The numbers of the busses he caught, the prices of anything he bought. He began to add to bills so the the end result ended up an even number. He caught even-numbered busses and walked half a mile rather than catching odd numbers. He became very distrustful and further withdrawn.
It was a sunny cold winter’s day. Joel got off the bus, and walked the last half mile into the city. The city, as always was very busy. Even now, early, there was a steady stream of people going their own way. Except Joel knew different. Their paths, mapped out, plotted by vectors, choices made for them. He began to think of them not as people, but as pixels. As little energy pods, solar cells for them – the other side of the veil. Charged with misery, ready to be ….Harvested.
He reached the book shop. It was off the main street, down a little Victorian undercover Arcade. There were lots of quaint quirky little shops, a refreshing change from the mainstream chain stores cloned on every city’s high street. He entered the shop, its low ceilings laying pay to his claustrophobia. There was a smell of old books in the air and he climbed down the rickety old stairwell.
Down in the basement he began to delve. He picked out one book, then another, then another. After about an hour it was clear he could not carry them all. He put some back. Carried four upstairs ( not five) and paid for them…cash. He threw in a bookmark to bring the price into the even.
At the till..it happened….
He zoned out and became aware of the otherness.
The world was grey and he could hear a faint distant hum. It was the unmistakable hum of technology. Out of the ether, the little old Man appeared.
“Quick Boy….no time….take this….”
He put his hands either side of Joel’s head.
A brilliant burning image appeared in front of him.
“This is Metatron’s Cube….its the key to crossing”
“Take it… hurry Boy…He and Sandalphon are on to You”
“Use the Cube to Cross”
Before Joel could ask he was back in the bookstore. The goofy shop assistant asking “Dude…You OK?…You kinda Zoned out for a moment there Bro?”
Joel left….books under his arm, with the image of Metatron’s Cube firmly burned into his brain.

Joel, in the warmth of the midday winter sun made his way back home on the bus. Paranoia had taken a deep root within him and he felt like he was continually being watched. He furtively glanced up at the other passengers all of which were non descript and not interested in Joel. Every time he closed his eyes he could see the searing burned image of Metatron’s Cube branded on his mind’s eye. He needed answers to so many questions?
On arriving home, as usual, he went up to his bedroom. He started reading the books.
Archangel’s history’s Heralds. He looked at the list of chapters and went straight to the section on Metatron’s Cube.
The book read,
“There are 13 Spheres of Metatron’s Cube.
They represent the 13 Archangels that stand before ‘God’.
Each One a Sacred Keeper of one element of the Creation.
Within the cube there are embedded elements of fire, water, earth, air and ether. There is also representation of every single element within the periodic table.
The 13 Archangels (ie the 13 Spheres of Metatron’s Cube) are present through all levels of creation. Archangels are omnipresent everywhere, in each and every moment.
Archangels are also ‘within you’, they exist within the Chakras and Energy Meridians) in order bring balance. In Eastern philosophy, the Tao, or Yin Yang resides in the centre of the Cube.
The words resonated with Joel…”everywhere in each and every moment”
The old man had told him that this was the key to crossing?
What did he mean? How?
Joel was scared. He was way out of his depth here.
Why…why him? What the fuck could he do?
He began to draw the pattern in his mind’s eye. He tried a few times, but its complexity halted him. He took the pen to paper, started with the thirteen concentric circles and began joining them. One by one the pattern began to take shape. As he drew, he felt first the pen, then his arm start to melt away. Into the ether, Slowly he began to see the images. Greys at first, ethereal cloudy blank canvass grey. It was accompanied by the drone of travelling electricity. Then came the colours.
Starburst Red and all its hues, searing bright and red-hot. An image of an Angel standing on the surface of the Sun in wondrous glory. The centre of the Universe and the bringer of life. Then the Vista changed, to deep hues of Cobalt Blues. There rose a massive Tsunami Wave and at its Herald, a Pure Blue Angel of Shimmering Shifting Water. Water, the cornerstone of life.
Again the colours began to change and shift, the blue of water and the yellows of light began to transform to greens. Water’s gave way to ground, islands rising , proud. Vernal greens began to grow, grow up out of the solid ground. Roots, branches, trees all began to morph into the shape of a Glorious Angel standing Rampant in the Forest of the Earth. Then the vision shifted…..shifted to high, above . Soaring above the Earth there flew a Golden Angel of the Air with a Golden trumpet. He blew the trumpet and its piercing blast caused the Vista to change again.
The fabric began to melt, to merge into the ether and the Angel of Metal and Matter hovered before him. He was not whole , but mercurial. He was of the chemical ether and Joel could FEEL him, he felt him in his heart, he felt his love, Joel wanted to stay there, for eternity, to never go back.
In that instant he heard a voice calling him, Joel woke with a start.
The Old Man was there, with him in his bedroom.
“At Last Boy….I have been waiting for you”
I have so much to tell You”
Joel felt sick , sick he was back in reality.

“Don’t fret my boy… I have seen many of your kind before…you are blessed..a Soothsayer…you’re kind are revered both sides of the veil. The worst that can happen is that you will be made to work for them…writing codes for the future.
My name is Paul, Paul Marrane. Some call me Matthias, others Buttadeus whilst others affectionately call me the Wandering Jew. I have lived a thousand lives and I will continue to do so until the Rapture. The signs in heaven tell Me that my penance is nearly over. That soon we will see the Return of the Nazarene. I ask you now for Hermitage?”
I don’t understand, said Joel?
Hermitage, Sanctuary, a Safe haven?
Safe from what..Joel asked?
Grant me this moment in time so that I may explain?
Yes…of course… I have…
“Tempus Stat”
Time Stand Still….chanted Paul.

With that the world….Paused. Joe’s watch stopped and the background barking of the neighbor’s dog immediately stopped.
Paul began…….
In the scriptures, 1 Paul 1:16, God gave us a clear indication of how he wanted us to behave.
It say’s,
“but like the Holy One who called you, be holy yourselves also in all your behavior; because it is written,
“YOU SHALL BE HOLY, FOR I AM HOLY.”
If you address as Father, the One who impartially judges according to each one’s work, conduct yourselves in FEAR during the time of your stay on Earth!!”
God noticed as time went by, man became more and more Godless. This angered the Lord for man carried on without any fear or fear of retribution. God decided that free will was the enemy of the Holy word.
He decided that every man, without God in his heart, would have his freewill taken from him.
It was too much of a task for there were so many godless on the Earth. He charged the Archangels with the task who in turn created and deployed the Code Writers to plot out the path for the unrighteous. They write out the miserable lives of all the ungodly.
Those with the love of Christ in their hearts have a firewall protection against the coders. They live the lives of free men with true free will.
The coders program misery because it charges more energy for the Archangel’s. The Angels are feeding on the energies in preparation for the Rapture. I believe the Rapture will be soon, for it is said, in the end of Days, many SoothSayers will walk the four corners of the Earth, proclaiming the coming Glorious Ascension.
Please…Now Joel..My Hermitage has been for three stopped seconds…two more than is allowable.
Please…I am sorry…I have to go.
Trust in Yourself Boy…look deep into yourself for the path you must take.
Choose wisely….
With that…Joel was back in his bedroom..more confused and scared than ever before?

Joel decided that he would.
He would have a long hard look at himself. Literally, to start with. He locked himself in the bathroom and stood in his underwear in front of the full length mirror on the back of the door. He was quite tall, around six one, to put an estimate on it, although he had never really measured himself. He was quite thin, skinny in fact, although he didn’t know what he weighed, as he never had actually weighed himself. He was gangly with a very pallid complexion. This was in stark contrast to his thick black mop of curly-ish hair. He stared into the mirror, closer. He could see his reflection of quite oily skin and realised why he never ever got this close to himself. He realised why at nineteen years of age he had never had a proper girlfriend. He was so awkward. Awkward looking, awkward sounding and awkward doing. He wasn’t really very good at anything. Average at Uni, average at sport, pretty much average at everything.
Pretty much nondescript. So Why?
Why Him..a SoothSayer? He looked up the definition of it on his mobile…”a person who can see the future”
He looked deep into his own eyes in the mirror…it was true…he could see the future staring back at him, his own future lay there mapped out before him…nondescript and awkward.
He began to feel lost. In his own bathroom, in his parents house, he did not have a clue who he was, where he was or where he was actually going.
He showered, the glistening droplets reminding him of the pixel people, shiny, aimless and cascading down towards the plug hole.
He dried off, got dressed and decided that he would do some research on the net. They already knew about him, he knew nothing of them. They know who he is, where he lived and all of his movements. He felt like he had nothing to lose.
On googling Metatron he came across the following.

“Archangel Metatron teaches esoteric wisdom to children and adults. He seems to take a special interest in highly sensitive young people who are misunderstood or even medicated because their spiritual gifts make them socially awkward”
Esoteric indeed though Joel. If only the Angel fodder pixels knew the truth about their futures. But what of his future? What of all the futures? What about the future of the future? He decided to leave the veil down and concentrate on his future, his studies. What difference could he make anyway? Perhaps Metatron would show him the true way?
All of a sudden a thought came into his head…Isaiah 38?… Immediately he googled it.
“And a highway will be there; it will be called the Way of Holiness; it will be for those who walk on that Way. The unclean will not journey on it; wicked fools will not go about on it”
With these words going over and over in his head Joel crawled over onto his bed, put out the light and fell into a deep sleep.

Joel began to dream.
Grey’s at first, grey’s with a soothing hum of electricity.
A bland sterile world leached and devoid of all feelings. His mind began to wander. He began to explore the limbo. Reaching out in front of him, ever long, a massive expanse of void. His search became more urgent. He began to feel cold. He started travelling in his mind faster and faster.
Nothing.
He began to panic.
He was getting colder and colder and more frantic. Mile after mile of cold grey expanse lay in front of him.
He was lost.
He stopped.
Stopped looking.
He remembered the voice of the Old Man
“Look into yourself”
Then you will truly see”
Joel noticed that the hum was accompanied by a small vibration. The grey he was standing on was vibrating. In his mind eye he immediately knew. The grey was his closed mind.He took a giant leap into the air and came down hard, heels first onto the membrane. There was a stretch an then a pop. Joel had broken through and he was bathed in a warm soothing amniotic fluid.
Brilliant colors glowed brightly with an iridescent sheen.
He was bathed in a kaleidoscope of light and saturated with love. He had never felt like this before. All the wonders of the universe shot past him in a million starbursts. He truly felt that this was eternity.
Then the 13 Archangels began to take shape and form before him.
They morphed and formed the pattern of Metatron’s Cube.
Slowly ….
Slowly …the cube began to spin.
The lights and colours of all the spectrum like a giant cumbersome Catherine wheel.
It started to gather momentum.
Faster
Faster and Faster and Faster.
It was now like a giant gyroscope, spinning and humming in a 4 dimensional plane.
The colors merged and gave way to LIGHT.
A blinding white light.
A Pure unbinding light.
Holy and Bright.
The light illuminated the path to the kingdom of heaven.
And Joel knew, that the path was one of infinite love.
He remembered the feeling of being lost…alone and frightening.
He remembered the grey… the Void.
He decided he would never feel like this again.
EVER!!!

Joel woke with a start. He felt like he had slept for…eternity. In truth, he had overslept and had just twenty minutes to get up, get washed, get dressed and get the train to Uni.
He felt….better?
There was a cold nip in the air, which hurt his chest as he gasped in lungfuls running for the train. Clouds of billowy breath chuffed out before him and he felt, for the first time in a long time, happy?
The train was crammed full. Pixels everywhere, with code writers interspersed every few seats. Joel began to feel sorry for them. Their banal lives being plotted, planned and mapped out to create energies for the Archangels. Then he realised, he had no firewall, no protection. He looked at the codewriter three seats back…was he planning Joel’s code? He looked kind of smug…and Joel felt the happiness draining away from him. Joel began to focus. He was a soothsayer…he could see the future…could he see his own? He tried.. he couldn’t. Then he focused on the codewriter. All of a sudden he could see the vectors mapped out in front of him. He imagined a wasp…the wasp appeared…he imagined the wasp flying over to the codewriter and stinging him on the throat.
It did.
He imagined anaphylactic shock..it happened…pandemonium on the train.
Next station paramedics were called…there was an audible buzz on the train.. people began to forget themselves and focus in on the codewriter. They began chatting to people they had sat next to and hadn’t spoken to in six months.
Joel was late for Uni, felt guilty about the codewriter, but had learned two valuable things.
1. He could at least affect some futures
2. In times of trial and tribulations, humility and humanity shine through.
He needed to work on his firewall.

Whenever Joel wanted to from that day onwards he could see into anyones future. Everyone’s except his own. When peering , however, he could only see the next six months. First he thought he was limited in his visions. He soon came to realise that there wasn’t any future past a certain date. There was a stark abrupt end to the light. Immediately after the World was plunged into darkness and chaos but thankfully Joel could see no further. It terrified him and was in complete opposite to the feeling of love in the light.
He began to screenshot the pixels images and found he could place them into a folder within his mind’s eye. He could later on, with time and quiet go back over them in a slide show.
Most of the them showed some sort of misery and trauma which came to an abrupt end. Some of the endings showed a specific date on the calendar.
23 September 2015…..six months away.
Joel googled the date.
The Day of Atonement.
Yom Kippur. Hundreds of websites with all sorts of theories all depicting the end of time? Were the other Soothsayers making proclamation?
Joel knew in his heart of hearts that the day of atonement was coming. He had been having more and more episodes of late and his dreams and visions were becoming more intense. He had been delving more deeply into the Bible. He kept getting drawn back to one particular passage
Acts 2:17 – “And it shall come to pass in the last days, saith God, I will pour out of my Spirit upon all flesh: and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams”
Joel found himself praying more and more and finding an inner peace with the light it illuminated within him. He found that as he carried on his daily life, the codewriters began to ignore him more and more. He still had n obsession of even numbers, of symmetry and balance. Often , if he saw one of the pixels having a particularly difficult time, he cut them some slacking proceeded to write them out a different future. This was much to the annoyance of the codewriters, who were clearly not happy with his intervention. Fuck them, he though, within six months this will all be over for them anyway. Let them have a bit of peace to the end of days.
Paul Marrane frequently popped into his head. Smiling furiously, knowing his penance was almost done.
Joel spent the next few months skipping studies in favour reading the scriptures. In his heart if heart he knew, the day of atonement, the rapture, the beginning of the end of days would all be on 23 September 2015.

It was a very warm Indian summer day on the 23rd. Joel lay on his back in the long dry grass looking up at the bright sun. He had watched the news breaking on his cellphone as the Earth began to get peppered by meteorite’s. Small ones at first, the vanguard of the mother lode to come.
Joel stared at the dancing photons. They began to cluster together in an intimate form.
The 13 Archangel’s, began to spin in the sky with an energy never once seen before.
Singularly at first but centrifuge drew them magnetically together. The spinning force began to form vortex of light. It began to grow, developing in a worm hole. The core beginning to stretch out into long cylindrical pathway.
Isaiah 35:8
“a highway will be there; it will be called the Way of Holiness; it will be for those who walk on that Way. The unclean will not journey on it; wicked fools will not go about on it”

Joel could see photons of light being drawn in by the vortex.Millions of enlightened souls joining in with the Rapture. He felt the wave of pure unending love wash over him.
Hallelujah ….Rejoice….he was drawn Up….embroidered into the fabric of space and time…joining in the wondrous Glory of God.

The last huge asteroid slammed into the Mid Atlantic just as the wormhole closed. It was the power of a thousand Hiroshima’s. Two gigantic Tsunami’s travelled towards the East coast of America and Western Coast of Europe. The debris obliterating all within its path. The ensuing clouds drew a dark veil over the Earth and blocked out the Sun’s light. Slowly but surely, every last spark of light, every last pixel was plunged into deep black darkness.
The End of Day’s had begun.

End of Days

End of Days

Original Fiction by Tony Norton

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

**Click on any Image to redirect to the images webpage/designer where it has been provided.
All images are found using Google Image Search and are not always labelled
I hold no ownership to any image used unless otherwise stated**