☆34. BUGS TO LOOM IN THE PENS OF THE BLOOD PIGS | Part One.

 

…from [E  P  I  S  O  D  E    E  I  G  H  T] of The Aqueous Transmission by [MIKE EYE]

[B u g s   t o   L o o m   i n   t h e   P e n s   o f   t h e   B l o o d   P i g s]

 

“As copper is transformed into gold through alchemical practices, likewise, those who have gained Knowledge use Passions as the Key to Liberation.”

— anonymous Tantric text

 

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[chapter THIRTY-FOUR]


[THREE-HUNDRED-THIRTY-THREE YEARS FOLLOWING THE FOUNDING OF BRY DELLOWS. FUCKED-EARTH TIME.]

The foul little lazy rascal knelt lackadaisically upon the dirty, cursed surface of Fucked-Earth on her filthy, disfigured knees as she caressed her pig’s thick, hairy ear that smelt of bio-toxic waste. The young girl — who looked more like a wretched and useless rejected runt of some Damned set of Demon offspring — was deep in the midst of overindulging in her favorite two-and-a-half hours of every two-and-a-half days, a most enjoyable time routinely enjoyed by her as well as by all of her low sisters, all active in the rowdy pig farms of the dark Mother’s feral, rickety village of the shit-stained Bry Dellows.

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Amid the smelly little girl sat several very distinct, similarly-deformed smelly little girls within a fairly large expanse of dusty, twisted farmland, each Wickedly afflicted girl tending most lovingly to her very own ugly, deformed smelly little pig. As usual, all of the sisters were getting so much a rise out of the bonding with their personal pigs that their dispositions seemed to illicit a kind of passive hyperactivity that had them poised to be officially qualified to lustfully milk the wretched creatures from their tainted teats in spite of the impossibility of the feat; there was an odd air of general sexual tension settling in a thick fog over the atmosphere of the pig pens.

Perhaps ironically, the fucked swine receiving all the attention didn’t look all too different from these retarded excuses for girls — the pathetic tribal filler-material known as the Loombugs — who were obsessed with feeding and ‘playing’ with the Bry Dellows Bloodpigs most enthusiastically as had become custom of their bizarre, indigenous tribe.

A thick, heavy stench of brute blood and festering feces lingered about the chaotic piggery emitting a putrid, pungent air within the vicinity that not One girl seemed bothered by. The rank stink wafted through the atmosphere along with loud, incessant Bloodpig oinks that were interspersed with the occasional shrill shriek or elongated, off-key drone of a preoccupied Loombug who had become exceedingly excited with her personal undertaking, momentarily unable to control herself. Bloodpigs who were not presently being tended to by the Loombugs, or had already finished their meals of the hearty Space-Grain, were currently squealing and scurrying mindlessly about the stables, their disproportionate, lumpy and saggy limbs crippling their steps to weird hobbles, rendering them oblivious to their surroundings as they scampered on into and past one another retardedly.

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The hogs had not a notion that they were, at present, each subconsciously, by their present behavior, ultimately seeking to be ordained back into the Spirit Molecule that had initially Summoned them all forth to this most corrupt countenance initially overseen during the Genesis of Bry Dellows by Al Rodnam.

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The Loombug sisters of Bry Dellows perpetually seized every precious moment effortlessly during these times ‘paid’ in the filthy village pens, Ritually immersing themselves with their sisters, although each Individually divulging their own selves with their own pig, of whom each Bug would customarily pick out personally for this most cherished “pig-sty playtime.” During this special time, all of the Loombugs would always consistently carry out very vulgar molestations of the Bloodpigs along with these vital feedings of the special Grains as part of their Ritual; such sick acts of which each Loombug conducted One-on-One with her own personally chosen pig, were overtly overly overzealous, hedonistic activities that required no Intellect whatsoever to execute — mere child’s play, as it were. The Hankerhawks of their tribe never showed them how to do this; the Loombugs had all felt instinctively driven, and very strongly so, to commit such whacky, vulgar behavior all their own, as a ‘side dish’ to the Feeding of the Space-Grain.

So, this was their favorite thing to do. Well, other than become engaged with the potent power expended by Sacra-mental manipulations of their Stone Runes, of course, ‘spending’ most of their days constantly engaged in subliminally manifesting shifty conjurings amid a plane of fundamentally, unconsciously misunderstood esoterica (the Loombugs would never come to know that the ‘potent power’ of the Stone Runes was mere ‘Placebo Effect,’ the Runes’ True magic long lost over the decades as a result of, initially ignorance by Mother Magdalena, and ultimately misinterpretation by all of her sisters).

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As per the Mother, the Loombugs were only permitted to ‘pay’ such gleeful times in the pig-pens under One condition: it was strictly mandatory that the Bloodpig Feedings always be followed by one extra final task of which the girls were all sworn to their pathetic lives to then Ritualistically endeavor upon: after the allotted two-and-a-half hours’ time with the Bloodpigs, the Bugs were then required by the Mother, à la Solaria, to each take their own recently skyfallen personal Bloodpig, of which they had been feeding and doing strange shit to, over to the nearby salty shore for a High dedicatory ceremonial Bloodpig drowning sacrifice. The Loombugs were hardened to this most sacrosanct sacrament on account of compulsory custom (not to mention genetic programming and human-hybrid perceptual multidimensional interferences), and so always underwent the Ritual Addendum without any difficulty, despite the general lack of well-functioning motor skills crippling the always sweaty Loombugs.

Upon arrival to the edge of the sparkling and slowly wavering, salty and bubbly azure shoreline, the Loombugs would customarily begin thoroughly scrubbing their Bloodpigs in the Water, proceed to then hack them the-fuck-up with their super sharp trusty daggers always kept within their loincloths (that were attached to the loincloths with some string) until most of the horrid hog blood was Spilled in the Ocean, then finally hold them Underwater for several moments thereafter while holding Visions of Solaria within their Collective Mind’s Eye for the duration of the ‘under’-taking.

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The Bugs would thereafter customarily each grab as many pieces of pork as they could carry, and fill up their wooden flasks with the extra-salty ocean water before scrambling themselves promptly back to the main dirt paths of central Bry Dellows, as a group, to go cook the hog pieces around an open flame and thoughtlessly eat (storing some of the meat in their loin-cloths for whenever they got Hungry later), thereafter habitually coming to absorb themselves with their Stone Runes and come to mumble mindlessly to One another as well as to any unoccupied Hankerhawk who was momentarily willing to put up with their shit.

Strange fact: the few rations of brutally brackish Water the Bugs gathered from the only ocean on Fucked-Earth was all that the dried-up, deformed bodies of the Bry Dellows Loombugs required. And the only food the Bugs of the tribe would eat would be Bloodpig. And lots of Bloodpig. And more of lots of Bloodpig. They did so many times a day, unceremoniously, and did so defying Mother Nature Herself by amazingly being able to survive normally on far less Water than Earthen organisms living more symbiotically in an ideal Vision of a world with its Land masses far, far prevalent geographically over its ever be-shrunken Seas. This was another reason the Loombugs of Bry Dellows always put so much effort into their routine Feedings of the Bloodpigs. Bloodpig was indeed all that they wanted and ever needed to eat, and it did them well. And yes, there was certainly a great deal of hog-shit that went along with that: most of the village’s grounds were strewn in it. The stench had come to garnish the Mother’s village in a subtle, familiar undertone that richly added to the community’s overall aesthetic.

Interestingly enough, although the Loombugs were constantly filthy from ugly Head to fucked-up toe, they never thought to wash themselves subsequent to the Bloodpig Sacrifices; in fact, they seldom ever washed themselves at all.

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And so, three-hundred-thirty-three elongated years after the Mother, her pet Amrita, and the elusive mystic Al Rodnam had established Bry Dellows under the subtle command of the mighty Lachrylon, the village’s tribe had grown to include roughly 85% Loombugs, 10% Hankerhawks, 4% Gilded Grunts, & 1% Godhed. The Loombugs, with their own scheduled mundane activities assigned by the Mother, were only slightly larger in size than the hideous hogs they would each so come to make their own at High Noon during playtime. The Hawks, always having to be the Ones to order the dumb Bugs around and remind them of this as well as other things — because the Bugs all had trouble focusing their frames of mind with their lines of thought — had no clocks (or any other machines for that matter) and would only know it was Noontime when the Sun was directly overhead, the Sun’s seeming path over the planet’s horizons taking nine [72/8] hours in all, which was one-third of a day, Fucked-Earth time. The Bry Dellows Loombugs typically never gained a developmental functioning capability beyond that of a four-year-old not bred with such Wicked, Balanced, Tantric Intention the likes of which the mighty Solaria had mandated for these doomed Loombugs. In all, the Loombugs pretty much greatly resembled the ever-so-precious, wretched Mandorla, as she had originally been born, beside the mystical pond that was the trippy window of the Aqueous Transmission, except that the Bugs of Bry Dellows physically grew, in average, to be about four-and-a-half feet tall by maturity.

This One Loombug of which we now follow — inconsequentially named Loomy — was a very young girl of four years (Fucked-Earth time), currently coming to most deeply delight in, as did all her sisters — who were all also named “Loomy” — her cherished time with the Bry Dellows Bloodpigs. Yes, each Loombug had the same name, not One of which was ever able to figure out its correct pronunciation. They all looked remarkably similar to One another, were gravely mentally retarded with all Bugs having an identical genetic makeup, and had an extremely limited vocabulary that mostly consisted of a few faintly recognizable sounds and frequently used buckled bodily mannerisms ordinarily exchanged among the Bugs so dysfunctional.

During the Bloodpig Feedings, however, the Bugs would each ‘pay’ time connecting only to their own loud and smelly consort, the girls remaining focused completely on their own individual task at (deformed) hand. They each enjoyed the company of their sisters around them during this special time, but were each unwilling to ‘pay’ the others any mind or communicate with them by any means. Full focus was had on the Bloodpigs.

The ultra-vivid sheen of the brightest midday Solar beams now flooded the dusty, drab atmosphere of Bry Dellows, throbbing its radiance in a strange pulse, and the incessant beat-down from the sky it brought upon Loomy struck her as it struck all the others, and in such a way that made her feel as though she were being pressed in between two giant, red-hot stone plates that were somehow continuously conjoining against one another despite a consistent pressure from either end.

But it was okay; Loomy was used to this weather.

All the Loomys were.

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And now nearby the smutty piggery, we see a few seasoned, expressionless Gilded Grunts trotting on forth sluggishly to dump the precious Space-Grain from their big bushels into the long troughs that ran lengthwise all along the stables. The Grunts would perpetually keep these troughs filled with Space-Grain, which they would bring through a stargate linked to the Andromeda Biodome. Despite the troughs lining the whole of the pig pens, the Bloodpigs therein would not — could not — eat from them; they had all been somehow neurolinguistically manipulated by Al Rodnam during the Genesis of Bry Dellows in such a way that they always had to wait to be fed by the Loombugs, no matter how hungry they became. And they had no patience.

Despite all the commotion surrounding her, Loomy, the dreadful youngster now totally preoccupied with her favorite activity, entirely numb to the intense heat, nevertheless lay mostly motionless in her shadowy corner of one of the stables, very overly excited as she held out her stumpy little wart-wrecked arm with a handful of prized, magical Space-Grain for her darling vile swine who disturbingly bared a most uncanny resemblance to herself.

As she continued to feed her Bloodpig, Loomy the little Loombug maintained an over-exaggerated smile that seemed forced, but wasn’t; her smile was, in effect, an unremitting affliction affecting her countenance that became comfortably settled upon the subject of her interest, stuck in a state of At-One-ment.

Time ceased to exist for Loomy as she lost herself inside the Ritual.

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The left half of young Loomy’s fat lip so moistened with drool would raise higher than the right half each time she flashed her hideous, mostly-toothless smile to her present personal pig — which was quite often throughout playtime, but for no apparent reason. She had several hairy-ass warts and large, distinct birthmarks all over her mostly naked, disproportional black, hairy body. A horrid smile now cracked her face in a flash as she uttered a few exaggerated cooing sounds with her mouth and nose, the latter of which had a great deal of rich snot dribbling out of it. The temperature was a sizzling 111˚ F, and Loomy was not bothered by it in the least as she sat distracted, completely covered in her extra-salty sweat.

There were precisely sixty-nine Blood-pigs present at the Bry Dellows pig-pens at all times; just as soon as One pig was Ritually Sacrificed on the specific day it was meant to be sacrificed — along with all the others — others would replace the spots in the pens of the previous pigs, having flown to Bry Dellows from some mysterious, undisclosed location. By this time along the Bry Dellows tribal ‘devilution,’ the flying pigs had all been genetically trained psychically by Al Rodnam to land at the pens at Bry Dellows on their own, so the old man no longer needed to shoot them down from the sky with his trusty handmade crossbow.

At any rate, the mystic had been long, long since gone from the dusky land of Bry Dellows.

Goodreads | Mike Eye (Author of The Aqueous Transmission)

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Mike Eye is now on Goodreads!

Source: Goodreads | Mike Eye (Author of The Aqueous Transmission)

#10. A Founding of Bry Dellows from the Aqueous Transmission ☆

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☆ And now, three days since their arrival, Magdalena was sitting cross-legged on the soiled, still-steamy surface of Fucked-Earth within the confines of the Hollow, Observing the deep crimson hue of blood-like sentiment settled over the scenery of shadows that danced about in fervor with the flames of the campfire that were flickering fruitfully. The three had mentally and physically territorialized a makeshift base camp area in a specific spot chosen by Al Rodnam, a spot that appeared not unlike the many campsites they had crudely constructed throughout their journey, only larger. The Mother thought of Mandorla now as she Eyed Al Rodnam in the near distance who was performing various yoga stretches beside the hungry flames of the campfire, intentionally entreating upon what they had to offer. She sighed. ⊙

Source: #10. A Founding of Bry Dellows from the Aqueous Transmission ☆

#20. Snake-Rita Reveals to Magdalena her Newfound Access to a One High Telepathic Archaic Wisdom Kollective

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from The Aqueous Transmission by MIKE EYE

Episode VI. / Chapter 30

The woman took pensive heed of the sprawling landscape before her that was so littered with scores of small black scraps of disintegrated wreckage, felt that now-all-too-familiar feeling of abandonment as she strode onward. This sprawling new environment was, however, a great deal easier for her to bare all-in-all, the Mother thought to herself, when weighed against the hindrance of all the huge piles of charred shit chaotically strewn about every which way as the case had been ever since she had received any divine communion with the inimitable, glorious jasper amulet of Solaria….

Source: #20. Snake-Rita Reveals to Magdalena her Newfound Access to a One High Telepathic Archaic Wisdom Kollective

#22. Amrita Brings Magdalena to her Secret Underworld of Wonder, from The Aqueous Transmission

DARK ESOTERIKA

…from Episode VI. 

[chapter THIRTY-ONE]______________________________

INSTANTLY, HER WORLD WAS TRANSFORMED AS SHE JUST AS SOON stepped into a most magnificent warm, tropical environment, with all kinds of lush, exotic flowers and plantlife of the most stunning colors overlying the land that was spotted with wonderful, exotic forest creatures — some airborne — busily bustling about, adding slight, wondrous sounds to the atmosphere. Not a single cloud was to be seen in the sky above, and the atmosphere had a sort of brightness to it that Lina had never seen present upon the Earth she was used to. So extraordinarily bright it was, yet not in the least bit blinding. Lina had noticed straightaway how amazingly fresh the air smelled, as she thought she seemed to be reaching an exceptionally High state of being just by breathing in the air around her. She found it instantly incredible.

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After an amount of…

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THE AQUEOUS TRANSMISSION eBook by MIKE EYE – 9781499902440 | Kobo

[About Me & My Page]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Source: [About Me & My Page]

Synopsis Of My Novel

*Synopsis of The Aqueous Transmission ____________________________

The Aqueous Transmission by Mike Eye is an incredibly exciting tale of dark lore that explores the idea of what planet Earth would be like if it had started out being ruled by small indigenous tribes of super powerful, genetically enhanced barbarian women with penchants for powers of perversion!

Source: Synopsis Of My Novel

☆ 21. The Golden Mother’s Metatronik Orb-Cube Comprising Her & Her 12 Silvery Seduktive Sister-Hawx Becomes Inadvertently Misled.

THANK YOU FOR READING DARK ESOTERIKA, A BLOG THAT SEES THROUGH THE VEIL….

 

This Post [#28.] Includes Text Excerpted From Mike Eye’s The Aqueous Transmission.

 

 

 

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[chapter TWENTY-ONE]


A MOST DEFINITIVE QUANTUM LEAP WAS THEN MADE AS EVERY Hankerhawk on Earth instantaneously became Conscious of precisely how embarrassingly defective the polar alignment of their Fucked-Earth had been for the past 25,566 years… and precisely why this had been so.

The Hawks instantly, clearly all understood their paradoxical dilemma as they retroactively re-envisioned the faulty paradigm they had been living in. The women altogether realized, in One Single Instance, that over all these years, they had in fact been attempting to navigate a depolarized Earth, and trying to do so while lacking the vital, driving Force that could provide to them supreme Guidance: a sense of True, natural Divine Direction, a certain kind of direction that would Illuminate each of the Hankerhawk’s own personal predestined paths. They altogether now realized that the missing piece of the puzzle was the enigmatic retrieval of this Divine Direction.

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It was not understood by the Hawks at this time however just exactly where these paths so stricken with Wickedness would in fact lead to. And the women were presently oblivious to any Awareness of just how disturbingly Wicked these destinies would in fact prove to be.

As if it mattered to their sense of communal reason, anyhow.

It was thus without any wonder, the Hankerhawks then came to recognize, just precisely why it had been so Goddam difficult for them all this time to locate a Goddam Godhed.

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During this climax of the current era, any Hankerhawk atop Fucked-Earth in any other tribe — not that there were many — who was not attempting to assemble herself together into larger charmed circles now became increasingly erratic in her behavior, and finally to the point where she, along with all of her Enlightened sisters, just snapped and started mindlessly slaughtering female newborns and any Gilded Grunts nearby — the only two ancestral descendants the elders of Bry Dellows customarily let live as functioning members of their tribes.

Utter Mayhem was in fact now ensuing over the Face of the Earth due to the sprout of the very first seedling of Space-Grain, a groovy space-crop that Fletcher Munsin had so solemnly, tragically help create, on par.

It was the tainted juices from a most Wicked intercourse so deliberate that indeed seeped into the Soil and spawned the first thing ever to be grown inside the Biodome of Andromeda.

The pandemonium among all the tribeswomen upon the surface of Fucked-Earth had increased threefold as soon as the seedling had been spotted by Mother Magdalena and the Twelve silvery seductresses.

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From the moment the Collective Observation had been made by the elite Bry Dellows female union of the first dark swirl wafting in close proximity to the Dark Space-Grain, the Mother ordered her sisters to help her at Once. They carried the limp Fletcher Munsin back into the pod, everyone assuming their “moving forward” positions, and the pod promptly took off from a now-hotly-Sanctified, energized surface of the now-freshly-charged precious acres of space-biodome farmland-plots, which were already starting to fastly soak and spread out amongst itself the newly-conjoined, most well-received Sacred Fertilizer soon to have every designated landplot throughout the entire Andromeda Biodome lively with the Fucked-Earth-bound Dark Space-Grain-oh-so-revered.

The shape-shifting High spacecraft mindfully penetrated enigmatically through the consecrated components of the Dome. In glowing orb-cube fashion, now carrying the compatible codes in their celestial light signatures, the proud Mother’s silvery Lightship intuitively proceeded to heed the call to its next destination with much valor.

All Thirteen entities of the sizzling psychopathic Metatron’s Cube of the Mother now thoughtlessly assumed that they were Headed back to Earth to bear ‘good news’ of the sprouting of the Space-Grain to the villages of Hawks throughout the planet.

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Not even for the slightest instant did any woman discuss the topic of destination; they sat smug and ecstatic, and still literally drooling over their prized, Sacrificed Possession that remained on the brink of life, the man’s pulse dropping to critically low levels.

With the Divine Sperm of Fletcher Munsin Cumming to Fertilize the Mother, she, along with Fletcher Munsin, in turn, had indeed Cum to Fertilize the Biodome floor with their Lust Juice. This, so the Mother thought, was to warrant her and her Twelve closest to then be on their way to save their world, a priori. It was the High Demand of Solaria.

Several hours later, the Hawks had come to notice that they had reached their programmed destination. The metamorphosis of the orb-cube transmuting back into the silver space-pod was the cue that the women had arrived.

Lina reached for the clank, opened the hatch, and pressed a button on the wall that caused the silvery steps to materialize beneath the ship’s outer door in liquid-flow fashion.

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One by One, with Magdalena Guiding the way, the Hawks stepped out into a world they all momentarily came to realize synchronistically, dumbly, was not even close to looking or feeling like Earth. Their newly regenerated DNA signatures had evidently guided them to a new place, the Hawks each now took it upon themselves to figure.

Each woman was instantly embarrassed and completely caught off guard. There was confusion and silence all around.

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Surrounding the women was a strikingly invigorating, deserted desert environment, most dry, the likes of which was unlike anything any of them had ever Experienced Seeing, or at least so they Thought. Dark clouds clogged the breadth of the skyline with such utter dreariness that the foreign vista oh-so-subtley seemed to the Hawks to be softly, slowly daring the newly-arrived chief humanoid-female-Earthling Space Voyagers to ever even consider coming to a place like this. This allowed for the organic aura of this distant — yet close — planet to project a Universal Forced Perception of its actuality, passive-aggressively imparting a subliminal, twisted mock-display of some supposed, inevitable, shocking upshot intended to intimately pity its alien Observer(s). The sly façade was Black, both in Appearance and in Spirit. Brown streaks of what looked like dense dirt were scattered over the smooth, grey silicate rock formations of the planet’s jagged surface, and the land was excruciatingly rutted all around the area from which they now stood in stupors. There seemed to be plenty of oxygen in the thick, vast, exceedingly sweet-tasting atmosphere, the core of which came to diffuse occasionally now with resident High heat and carbon in the air, conspiratorially inviting in taunting, invisible High Blazes that would result, periodically, in the most relentless hits of the fiercest of electrical strikes, suspiciously conjuring forth quite the powerful subconscious taunt.

Against the expansive gloom, the Hawks somehow sensed an overall strange overcast blindingness that sought to utterly unnerve these foolish Bry Dellows Hankerhawks of Fucked-Earth, and the colors and hues of everything surrounding the women now appeared unimaginably ludicrous; in Truth, most deep and personal…

The haunted Hawks remained silent, were totally confused. They all felt as if they were heavily hallucinating to an overkill.

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Magdalena caught sight of a small crater in the distance. It was a small piece of rough turf about 26 kilometers in diameter that was the focal point in a conjunction of several distinguished pale cracks caving in on themselves.

“Look up ahead,” she said to the ladies, her forefinger pointing before her.

Guiding the way forward, loyal Iron Spear in hand, the Mother braved onward. Utilizing her embedded wild, tribal radar/sonar detector, Lina noticed a slight, yet intense vortex-like pull on her subtle energy field.

She paused, raised her left fist up high, level to her face and shouted commandingly, “HALT.” The women all came to a militant stop at Once. There was a moment of silence.

“You girls feel that?” asked the Mother.

But before they could reply, all Twelve of the Silver Hawks were suddenly sucked into the gloomy crater just ahead, which apparently contained a sucking Black Hole within its Center.

Magdalena remained the only One still standing on the surface, her magical Golden dress somehow able to counteract the tugging she felt from the Dark hole attempting to suck her in.

She ran on straight ahead, right up to the edge of the crater’s murky drop and peered down in a panic.

It led down into a deep, Dark chasm below and she did not see any bottom to the hole. Winded, the Mother crouched down, her hands coming to rest upon her knees, still in Shock. She stared down bleakly into the Dead Center of the bottomless pit before her, all wide-Eyed.

Then she realized that she could see a faint, whitish azure glow moving subtly down, deep inside the massive hole before her, a giant orb in the far, unforgiving dusky distance nimbly pulsating with a High curiosity.

Magdalena felt for a moment almost as if she were spying on some important living, loving entity relevant to her very nature, certain to also point out to herself that she didn’t have to feel bad about doing so.

Squatting now over the edge of the ledge with a desperate bewilderment, sweat swimming about in a bodily bounty within and amongst the crystal-clear pores of her dazzling black skin, Mother Magdalena extended her neck as far out as she was able, peering down intently.

She heard nothing. -MIKE EYE

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☆ 5. A POST-KRASH LANDING

WELKOME TO DARK ESOTERIKA…. [post #27.]

AND NOW, WE REJOIN MOTHER MAGDALENA BACK IN HER RECENTLY CRASHED SPACE POD AS SHE SUDDENLY DECIDES TO INITIATE EVAC, STAT!

 

 

[chapter FIVE of THE AQUEOUS TRANSMISSION]


SUDDENLY, AN INTENSE DESIRE TO QUICKLY FLEE THE SPACESHIP overcame Lina‭. ‬She felt barely any shielding energy left inside her magical dress‭, ‬the powers‭ ‬of it mostly‭ ‬depleted‭. ‬She entered her small walk-in closet and hastily grabbed her knapsack that was hanging on a hook and took a look inside it‭. ‬Inside she found a ball of hemp cord‭, ‬an ink pen‭, ‬a pad of paper‭, ‬and some other odds and ends of useful purpose‭. ‬She slung the satchel over her shoulder and quickly stepped back into the bedroom‭. ‬Cautiously‭, ‬Lina went to go fetch Amrita to stuff inside the sack‭. “‬Stay in there and be quiet‭,” ‬she told the thing‭. ‬She tiptoed to her night table and opened the‭ ‬drawer‭. ‬She grabbed her handy dagger that was inside‭, ‬attached it to her waist‭, ‬and stepped to the door‭. ‬She took a deep breath‭ ‬and shut her Eyes tightly‭. ‬She planned on trying to exit the craft without looking at the flight deck‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

She was disturbed as she briefly caught sight of a potential future image of herself gaping in astonishment over the sloppy mess on the flight deck.

Lina shook herself free of the gripping, grimmy image, cautiously felt for‭ ‬the button on the wall, and the two parts of the door slid open‭. ‬She stepped through‭.‬‭ ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Instantly‭, ‬Lina noticed an intensely foul‭ ‬odor in the air‭, ‬much stronger than the one in her bedroom‭. ‬She grimaced as she returned her nose beneath her dress‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Her spaceship‭, ‬being small as it was‭, ‬was not difficult to navigate behind closed Eyelids‭; ‬she cared not to investigate further the loud shattering she had heard‭, ‬nor the strong stench she now smelled‭, ‬although she could imagine precisely the cause of both of them‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

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Cautiously‭,‬‭ ‬Eyes shut tight‭, ‬Lina shuffled to the storage area on the port side of the craft‭. ‬The surface of the floor was heavily uneven on this side of the ship and she struggled to hold her balance‭. ‬She opened a cabinet and‭, ‬holding open her knapsack‭, ‬hastily reached in and dragged all the fruit and tiny bags of nuts and grains into it‭. ‬Eyes still closed‭, ‬she opened another cupboard‭, ‬felt around‭, ‬and added the rationed portions of flasks of Pure Fresh Water to the bundle‭. ‬This was all the‭ ‬food and drink she kept on her ship‭, ‬which she had only previously ridden on special occasions‭, ‬this‭ ‬particular‭ ‬ride‭, ‬obviously yet quite peculiarly‭, ‬being her last‭.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

And also somehow her first.

Lina grabbed her trusty spear that was resting on the floor‭, ‬readied her nerves‭, ‬and prepared to book it past the front-end of the ship toward the hatch on the far right side‭. ‬She could only hope that the hatch could still be opened given the condition of the pod‭;‬‭ ‬she figured this was a Once-in-a-lifetime type of predicament she found herself stuck in‭.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

And indeed it was.

She closed her Eyes and briefly meditated on her escape.

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Other than her magical golden dress, it was Magdalena’s trusty spear that was her prized possession. The demoralizing lance had also been crafted from the fierce filaments of the almighty Solaria, and had been, more than Once, handed down to her as a ferocious, inhuman aid in the brutal combat that would inevitably befall her throughout her travels. It was fashioned from unadulterated iron crystal that had been extracted from the center of the Earth. As such, it worked intrinsically with the bleeding planet’s core, and the edge of it always remained perfectly sharp, having embroidered jagged teeth toward the top-end of it. In essence, the enchanted staff was really a sacred scepter that, through the sanctity of Solaria, ceaselessly sought secret sanction with its specific possessor, entrusting itself with, whom in this case was, Mother Magdalena. This was a most awesome power with none other like it, and it had the miraculous ability, along with the application of two other star-gate Tools, to tap into the sacred Black Hole Sun of the Inner Earth chambers, providing the Mother, along with her formidable, fulsome dress, with the utmost protection and guidance on the surface of the densest of planet environments she may happen upon.

And now, from where she stood‭, ‬feeling great fear‭, ‬the Mother ‬mindfully folded down her epiglottis to block her air duct‭, lifted opened her Eyes, ‬and‭ ‬directed her gaze toward the ship’s hatch‭, ‬paying no mind to the flight deck‭. ‬Gripping her mighty spear tightly‭, ‬Lina took in a deep‭, ‬putrid breath and then went for it‭. ‬She‭ ‬galloped awkwardly toward the hatch as fast as she could across the surface of the sloped cabin‭, ‬her body in pain‭, ‬the odor unbearable‭. ‬When she got there‭, ‬she grabbed the wheel at the center of the hatch‭. ‬Heaving‭, ‬she used all of her remaining strength to spin the wheel to its extremity‭, then pounded on the button to the left of the hatch‭, ‬which was supposed to open it‭. ‬But‭,‬‭ ‬alas‭, ‬as she had suspected‭, ‬the hatch was jammed‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

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‭”‬FUCK‭!‬‭”‬‭ ‬she cried out and started pounding on the door as if it would give way just because she pounded on it‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

The stink was repulsive‭.‬‭ ‬Lina whimpered in pain‭. ‬And just as she began to think up new ways of‭ ‬how she could escape the downed spacecraft‭, ‬a very flustered Lina started to feel wafts of heat blow by her‭. ‬Slowly lifting open‭ ‬an Eyelid‭, ‬she snagged a peak at some smoke drifting by and instantly became petrified‭; ‬the level of anxiety she was wrought with rose several notches and the back of her neck grew instantly damper‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Feeling completely overwhelmed at this point‭, ‬Lina realized that if there was any chance for her to make it out alive‭, ‬she needed to break free of the hysteria that was starting to grip her and‭ ‬focus her mind at least somewhat on what it was that she was trying to do‭.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

She took a brief time-out‭. ‬Trying with all her might to gain composure‭, ‬she consciously attempted to ignore her racing thoughts‭ ‬and project her powerful energy inward‭. ‬For a moment‭, ‬just One brief moment in time‭, ‬she aimed to block out all senses and attain a flash of Divinity‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

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‬She paused‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

In a state of absolute dissociation‭, like a deprivation of senses submerged in water, her Soul grabbed hold of what presented itself to be the experience of an intensely real hallucination of a rather pleasant image for her. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

‬From out-of-body, Magdalena saw her tall‭, ‬shimmering form swimming gracefully through an ocean of a milky‭, ‬midnight sky‭, in a patch of starry outerspace not too distant from the Earth‭. ‬Swimming vibrantly through deep-space as if it were a cool pool‭, ‬Lina was overjoyed to find other‭, separate, ‬smaller celestial entities gaily joining her for a merry‭, ‬intergalactic swim‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

For an‭ ‬instant‭, ‬just One simple instant of bliss‭, ‬the iridescent bodies all swirled together in ecstasy‭, ‬dancing happily in harmony‭. ‬Lina smiled‭.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

A stinging choke brought the hopeful woman back to her subjective consciousness of the physical being that was trapped inside the smashed space-pod‭. ‬She bent over and spewed out a few robust coughs‭, ‬spit‭, ‬and then lifted her head slightly to find herself looking at the jammed hatch that wouldn’t budge‭. ‬She shook her head briskly‭, ‬feeling a slight sense of déjà‭ ‬vu set in‭. ‬In an effort to limit the amount of smoke being inhaled‭, ‬as well as to dodge the dreadful‭, ‬drifting odor‭, ‬Lina took in a deep‭, ‬disgusting breath through her mouth and tried to see how long she could hold it in her lungs‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

As she held that breath in‭, ‬she tried with all her might to remain consciously locked onto that comforting sensation‭ ‬brought forth by the spectacular Vision she had just had‭, ‬while still remaining mindful of her task at hand‭. ‬She wanted to see‭ ‬how long she could hold in her big breath‭. ‬And with it locked inside her lungs‭, ‬she gathered up all her courage and turned around to face the facts‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Sludge‭, ‬scattered‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

And without realizing it‭, ‬she let loose her breath before her in a forceful blow‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

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‬At the ship’s bow‭, ‬Lina helplessly beheld the same overwhelming mess of toxic rubble and pieces of corpses that had seared her vision from behind the great‭, ‬big crystal glass dash‭, ‬but now the dash was shattered‭, ‬and the grimy debris was scattered upon the flight‭ ‬deck‭, ‬having fallen into the ship when the cracked glass had given way‭. ‬Lina was aghast‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

The toxic shit littered a good portion‭ ‬of the flight deck‭, ‬and there was a huge mound of it just outside‭, ‬completely clogging the opening of where the dash had been‭. ‬It seemed most of the spaceship’s sharply inclining, downward-sloping front-end was buried beneath the surface of a scorched Earth‭, ‬trapping Lina hopelessly inside‭.‬‭ ‬She gathered a great amount of air into her lungs then released her breath to speak‭ forcefully. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

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‭”‬SOLARIA‭!” ‬the Mother proclaimed with raised head and lifted arms‭, “‬GUIDE ME OUT OF HERE‭!” ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

She shut her Eyes tightly and mustered together some nerve‭.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Lina gagged slightly as she reluctantly shuffled down the incline‭, ‬toward the intruding wreckage to analyze it further‭, ‬noticing a thin layer of smoke accumulating just above it as she got closer‭. ‬Trying‭ ‬not to panic‭, ‬she scanned the‭ ‬debris‭, ‬seeking the source of the smoke‭. ‬In the far corner‭, ‬Lina caught glimpse of a small flame‭ ‬flickering faintly‭. ‬She gasped‭. ‬And then she came to find herself glaring into the center of the flame‭, ‬concentrating hard on it‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

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‭”‬Solaria‭! ‬Anoint my Spirit with your scalding center‭!” ‬she cried‭, “‬But torch not my hot temple of flesh and blood‭! ‬Just as you said‭,‬‭ ‬I am‭ ‬needed to procreate‭! ‬Now get me out of here‭!‬‭” ‬She could hear a raspy‭, ‬muffled, mechanical meow come from within her knapsack‭, ‬which was still slung over her shoulder‭. ‬She coughed‭.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Lina again shut her Eyes. She took a slow, steady breath in, and then out, and found herself Once again Observing her body back up in the High Ocean‭. She ‬saw her long‭, ‬smooth figure gracefully gliding in twirls within the all-too-black, totally starless sky‭; this time she swam alone‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬-MIKE EYE

☆ 33. “Now that Pigs Fly…”

from the pages of The Aqueous Transmission by Mike Eye

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[chapter THIRTY-THREE]


THE FOLLOWING DAY BROUGHT SULLEN SKIES ENTWINED WITH THE now-familiar dreary, subtle scarlet. It was mid-morning when Mother Magdalena found herself sitting on the Hallowed grounds of the Hollow in deep Contemplation to the sky over what Al Rodnam had said to her, her back propped up uncomfortably against a huge blackened, ruined stub of a trunk that had once been a massive Oak.

She knew that the old man spoke only when necessary, and in riddles that bothered the shit out of her. She knew she cared very little about Al Rodnam. But she did not have the foggiest idea how it possibly could be that the mystic had already somehow gotten her pregnant. Lina had questioned the old man several times about what he had meant, but subsequent to his utterance of the perplexing statement, Al Rodnam had chosen to give Lina the silent treatment.

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Magdalena was fairly certain they hadn’t mated, or if they had, she noted, she most definitely did not remember it, neither were there any marks about her body that could’ve leant to her hints of recent sexual activity. Maybe the old man had used another tapped spell or something of the sort, Magdalena began to entertain, a sharp anxiety starting to well up inside her. She had decided then that if Al Rodnam was to continue acting so mysteriously, she would do something about it. She wasn’t quite sure yet what that something would be, but she would most certainly do something about it, she thought to herself.

The Mother glanced down at her tone tummy. Through her brightly glittering golden dress — recently recharged at the Inner Earth lake where she could’ve sworn she saw Fletcher Munsin within — she Eyed the bellybutton-less section of her fine stomach where, for every other human being she had ever known to exist, always bore the scarred Navel. After mulling over the evident paradox of what she knew of the peculiar phenomenon of human birth and germination, Lina humphed to herself upon considering just how ironic the senseless life-process truly made her feel after gaining the type of Insight she had recently received. Flooded by horrid thoughts she couldn’t shake, Lina became extremely frustrated.

She couldn’t Imagine herself pregnant. She didn’t feel pregnant. But the Mother somehow knew for sure that the wise old man had been telling the Truth when he said that the two of them had recently bred. Al Rodnam’s All-knowing temperament coupled with his irksome slyness deeply bothered Magdalena. It scraped at her insides with an uncanny cunning, causing her to feel unendingly inadequate in the company of the guru. And she would not be able to admit to herself that, deep down, she was jealous of the old man.

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Lina’s day-dreaming suddenly ceased as she realized how uncomfortable she was propped up against the rough surface of the huge pallid stump that dug into her back most irritatingly no matter which way she shifted her posture. She ogled the ashen stump with irritation. Unconsciously, the Mother knew that Al Rodnam had very recently secretly abducted her, taken her to his South Pole Homeland, had his sacred Soma-laced Sperm discreetly artificially inseminated into her uterus, and used magic to make her forget the whole incident, much like he did during the Aqueous Transmission. But the Truth of this occurrence would not surface up into the Mother’s Consciousness.

Magdalena returned Head to sky and immediately noticed something ugly and much misshapen flying crookedly against the bloody horizon — just one single, solitary fat mass of a twisted creature all by its lonesome, aloof and seemingly undaunted in the High air. Lina didn’t jump or start at all; she kind of just focused in on the airborne creature indifferently, squinting her Eyes as she looked skyward, knowing instinctively she had seen this type of animal before.

It was a flying pig.

And this pig had worn-out, leather-like skin with dark welts and bulges, patches of filthy, unkempt hair in unassuming places, and tiny, little frayed wings that were rapidly flapping out of rhythm without one another, just barely able to lift the portly shape of its bearer aloft, causing severe unsteadiness in its seemingly oblivious advance.

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Magdalena arose at once and began to follow the deformed swine, her curiosity getting the better of her. Although the creature seemed to have no idea where it was headed, it looked as though it was moving along quite steadily, and she liked to see where it would end up.  Lina trailed the flying pig for almost a half an hour before, far ahead of her, she saw a shooting arrow fly speedily straight into the small wings of the airborne animal, straight-away sending the soaring swine plummeting downward toward Fucked-Earth and disappearing behind a massive ramshackle boulder in the distance. Magdalena took pursuit in that direction with increased fervor.

The closer she got to the huge boulder, the louder strange, muddled noises were heard coming from the other side of it. Nearing the source of the sounds, the Mother thought she was beginning to hear a frenzied clatter of greatly exaggerated hog howls. Lina’s Eyes widened. Her Heart picked up pace slightly in excitement, in awe of the whole situation transpiring. After plodding through the disheveled, upturned rubble and gravel that surrounded the massive boulder, she had finally made her way to the other side of it.

The Mother found herself confounded, staring perplexedly at loads of squealing freak swine rushing around the place frantically, the whole lot of them scurrying recklessly into one another hectically, each one insisting the pools of their soppy sweat be swapped with the next one that scampered on past. Rank odors of an uncanny porky smut were laced with loud, pathetic-sounding oinks of the most mindless demeanor, the noises mixing with the haze about the site that wafted in thick, potent fumes of near-toxic levels. Lina covered her mouth and nose with her mighty dress.

She caught sight of Al Rodnam then, a mere shadow in the near distance. He held a medium-sized, hand-crafted wooden bow by his side, and he was staring directly at Magdalena, his hair masking his face, his robes hung loosely about his frame. So eerie was the still image in the grey of the day that Magdalena for the first time actually felt genuinely frightened of Al Rodnam, the skin over her arms, up her shoulders and neck having just crawled so emotively that fat goosebumps instantly appeared across the surface of her skin. She became extremely lightheaded with a potent nausea, the whole of her upper body having fastly froze up for a frightening, brief moment that left her in a cold, Wicked daze.

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After that insane moment, she came to and involuntarily shook her whole torso back and forth so violently that she almost fell over. “Ugghh!!” her voicebox then released out into the air in disdain.

One particularly large, fat hog within the mad piggery that the Mother wanted to instantly flee from, disgustedly squealed out with an exceptionally loud emphasis then, and Magdalena turned to see Amrita pestering the pigs as it slithered beneath their missteps, raising up dust in its trails. The Mother’s pet sensed Lina’s presence, turned to her, and began slithering in her direction.

“I knew you’d come around sooner or later,” stated the snake as it slinked up to the Mother.

“Where did all these revolting creatures come from?” the Mother ventured after a brief moment.

“The sky, it would seem,” was Amrita’s reply.

They were located at one of the very edges of the Hollow Homefront, and all these flying pigs seemed to have gravitated toward this general direction, one by one. Al Rodnam was shooting them down here, in this place. He seemed to have been expecting them to come.

Magdalena stared on at the messy confusion before her, eventually coming to fall in a bedazzled daze as she became fixated with the mindless muddiness of the stupid hogs.

Shamefully, she noticed right then and there how akin the innate behavior of these wretched animals was to her ultimate nature.

She took a glance back to the old man but he was no longer there.

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“That would do it! All sixty-nine of them!” was the rather droll statement then over-enthusiastically made just behind Magdalena. The Mother turned quickly around and there was the guru. He smiled slightly at the Mother, sensing her deliberation, and before she could ask him a thing, Al Rodnam said “We will have use for the Blood Pigs in the near future, Mother. They will be our Lifeblood.” His smile was closed and ever-so-slight.

The Mother suddenly lit up, taking up a candid swagger. She pointed at him threateningly. “Look here, Mister Al Rodnam, I’m pretty sick of your shit. Your crazy little wizard games are driving me wild! Why do you have to be so secretive?” She reached up to clutch her temples with the lower parts of her palms and shut her Eyes tightly as she rolled them swiftly around impatiently. Then the Mother reached down, assumed a dual grip on the little old man’s shoulders, and lifted him clear off the ground, bringing him Eye-level with her. She shot a mean glare at the old man.

The mystic remained expressionless, a mute look over his face. “Very well, if you put me down, I will tell you whatever it is you need to know.” Lina paused, tilting her Head slightly to the side and narrowing her Eyes at the old man. Then she sighed and released him.

“What are these creatures and where are they from? Be straightforward! And tell the Truth!”

“These here are the Blood Pigs, my dear Mother,” simply stated Al Rodnam. “They are a part of what skulk in the sick pastures upon your dark side, my Mother. The dark side of the Moon.”

Lina raised her Head over at the pens where the despicable swine scrambled about and rapidly received a potent jolt of déjà vu. She shivered as her thoughts seemed to clearly project images of Mandorla in reminiscent succession and for the first time ever, Mother Magdalena all of a sudden felt scared of everything she knew to be anything at all. She had just caught the flash of a quick psychedelic vision and understanding of Nothingness.

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She looked back at Al Rodnam. “So how the Hell is it that we’ve mated already, I don’t remember us mating at all. Did you dose me on something?”

“No, I used a spell on you. I could not let you know where I was taking you.”

Lina started abruptly and blurted out loudly “I knew it!” She took her voice down a few notches. “Why?” pressed the Mother urgently with a harsh whisper that was barely contained as she tried to reason with the mystic very simply, a hand on her hot hip.

“My instinct. And I don’t even question my instinct.”

“Where did you take me?”

“I took you to the Andromeda Biodome,” lied Al Rodnam.

He had, of course, taken the Mother to his existential South Pole Homeland. The reason Al Rodnam had to conceal his course to his Immortal Earth Homeland involved a painful secret that the Mother Magdalena could never know: in order to warp to the perfect, precious time-space of his Enchanted Emerald site, the great guru — only Al Rodnam himself — had to first bypass the Inner-Earth Underworld that belonged solely to Amrita— the same place the Mother and her Hankerhawks came to every so often to recharge their powers. He did so through an underwater stargate that was located in the very pond that could replenish Magdalena with her thriving energies. This amazing, tropical world was exclusively Amrita’s, and, as such, the old guru would not feel secure there. It was indeed embarrassing for him even to admit to himself that he had to go through this world to get to his own; he could not Imagine the Mother ever finding out this secret.

Once casting a trance upon the serpent-crowned Mother Magdalena and bringing her through the Underworld Garden to his secret hide-out, the mystical Al Rodnam had selected the contents from one of countless jars of his personal plasma-preserved jars of sperm incubating with the Soma in the Sirian Space Crystals he kept by the calm pond that teleported him to the Inner-Earth Fountain of Youth, and promptly artificially inseminated it into the Mother’s uterus before bringing her back to Fucked-Earth Genesis á la Aquarian persuasion.

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“Why the Andromeda Biodome?” snapped the Mother.

“So that we could quickly sew the seed of the first Space-Grain!” again lied Al Rodnam. He lightly tilted his wizened Head to the side and squinted his Eyes at Magdalena. “That stuff is vital to the flow of things around here, you must know.”

Receiving a vision then, in beams of High Light, of her most desirable turnout of future events to occur at Bry Dellows, the Mother suddenly could not stop obsessively thinking about completely overtaking in every way the Spirit of the elusive man that eternally enigmatically entreated upon her corrupt countenance, that ever-watchful, perpetually present, most attractive man called Fletcher Munsin. She probed fixatedly over just when it would be that the full body of Fletcher Munsin would Cum around, knowing all too well how infuriatingly manic and bittersweet he would come to make her feel on all levels of Emotion.

She thought she didn’t realize why this was so.

But she did.

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[BY MIKE EYE]

Goodreads | Mike Eye (Author of The Aqueous Transmission)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mike Eye is now on Goodreads! Please follow me, I am a Goodreads noob and need help getting started, if you lovely people don’t mind. I would greatly appreciate it! Thank you. -MIKE EYE

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16234480.Mike_Eye

☆ 32. THE SIRIAN MYSTIC’S RUNE STICKS 🌐

THE AQUEOUS TRANSMISSION

E  P  I  S  O  D  E    S  E  V  E  N

N  o  w   T  h  a  t   P  i  g  s   F  l  y…

 

And I filled my face with the light of the completion of their aeon. And I entered into the midst of their prison, which is the prison of the body. And I said, ‘He who hears, let him get up from the deep sleep.’ And he wept and shed tears.
—The Apocryphon of John

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[chapter THIRTY-TWO]


AL RODNAM LAY CROUCHED IN A NEW, SEEMINGLY UNRELATED PATCH OF GEOMANTIC TERRAIN somewhere within the stark Hollow of what would devolve in no time to become the everlasting Bry Dellows. The old man hunkered down on his knees against the unclean surface of Fucked-Earth, neatly arranging and rearranging the four Rune-inscribed sticks he now always kept within short grasp. Six peculiar inscriptions had been meticulously scrawled by Al Rodnam upon each of the four similarly-sized smooth, wooden branches now laid out before him, the strange etchings boasting daunting, intricate attributes that seemed to almost subtley glow a deep, dark purple pulse of archaic bioluminescence. The ocular lids of the great guru remained latched as he fidgeted mindfully with the four sticks in deep Contemplation. The Mother approached the man silently from behind, coming to cease pace uncomfortably close to the man’s back.

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Of course, Magdalena had not in the least startled the mystic, yet the man distinctly sensed something awry in the ultra-feminine aura hovering just behind him. Al Rodnam abruptly ceased mindful activity unflinchingly and, with Eyes remaining closed lightly beneath the thick, muddled strands of grey hair brought about meaningfully over his rough face, his Head remaining just where it was, the old man patiently waited to hear what sort of ill-tempered, ill-conceived statement the Mother would mutter. There was complete stillness in the air.

“I’ve found out where you’ve retrieved those live branches, Al.”

Al Rodnam’s concealed Eyes swiftly bulged out beneath his hair-mask, completely taken aback. He turned to the Mother.

“I am Al Rodnam, my Mother,” said Al Rodnam in deep monotone. “You must never call me ‘Al’.”

“Okay ‘Al Rodnam’ or whateverthefuck you wish to be addressed as,” was the exceedingly rude remark uttered by Magdalena. “Are you gonna tell me what it is you’ve been doing with those Damned things?”

“Fool,” proclaimed the great guru softly with blind resentment, and he resumed his mindful activity with full concentration, seeking to shun the Mother’s foul temperament.

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Magdalena rolled her Eyes, flailed her arms skyward in resignation, then quickly spun halfway around as she swiftly brought both her arms back toward her waist sides with claps.

“Whatever!” articulated the Mother irately. She was greatly impatient. “So are we gonna fuck or what!?” she shouted with high anxiety. The old man kept on his mindful task without the slightest flinch or reaction whatsoever to the Mother’s coarse discourse.

For several minutes there was no dialogue.

The Sun was setting in the West and a fresh glint of the rays came to shine momentarily directly into Magdalena’s Eyes. Blended with the proverbial blood-red Lunar disc glowing gloomily, seemingly beside it, it looked almost as if a sly high-spirit or demigod had suddenly then took a giant, fully-soaked metaphysical paintbrush to the sky in earnest to toss down a token of grey, watered-down warning to a hot and steamy Fucked-Earth atmosphere.

After a while, Al Rodnam glanced steadily over at the Mother, wisps of the wild stray strands of his hair that was perpetually shielding his Eyes ruffling slightly in a dirty breeze that was wafting by most curiously. Ignoring Lina bluntly, the guru moved his lips to speak.

“I did not retrieve these here pieces of wood from the Inner-Earth Underworld, Mother. I have a different place I tend to frequent for the necessities of constructing Tools for the Service.”

“Oh really? Where’s that?” Lina again started. “‘Tools for the Service,’ huh?”

“I would show you, Mother, but, alas, I cannot. The means with which I travel to the aforementioned geographical coordinates involve a method of navigation of which you know not how to conduct. My apologies, my fair lady.”

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Indeed unaware, and also uneducated, of the method of navigation used by Al Rodnam to travel to his personal secret, special domain where he had retrieved the Rune sticks, Mother Magdalena was also thoughtlessly oblivious to the sad, embarrassing Truth of what it was he needed to sacrifice in order to gain access to that travel route of his…  Magdalena would never come to know this secret Truth. Al Rodnam’s ultimate chill-spot was at the very center of a lush, tropical continent existing outside of space and time, located at the very zenith of the Immortal Earth’s Rod; it was the South Pole on a version of Earth apart from all Her endless reincarnations. Here, the fresh air always brought with it a crisp sensation of euphoria. Here, always existed outside the boundaries of time. Here, was the place the mystic had in fact brought his Mother. A part of the man had been staying at this enchanted place for eons, remaining connected to its most exotic Immortal trees and animals in perpetual joyous wonder. His favorite place to contemplate predicaments was a happy grassy knoll at the very center of this Homeland, situated just beside a subtle, modest pond positioned in the middle of a softly flowing river. This little modest pond would be the final destination of noble Nammu of Europa, the necessary messenger who would reveal to the guru that the End had Cum.

“What are they for?” the Mother asked after a short while, gesturing with a nod of her head at the Rune sticks.

“Ritual. I will instruct you on the Divine agency of the sacred Runes when I am ready,” said the guru unwearyingly.

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Irritated, Magdalena turned to leave, and as she walked away, Al Rodnam called out to her in a slow, mindful manner that fastly brought her chills. Lina spun around. There was brief silence, the shaded Head of the guru faced toward the Mother evocatively.

“We won’t need to mate,” said the old man softly, with a thankful frankness.

Lina was taken aback. “We won’t?” she uttered uncertainly, the words of the almighty Solaria flashing themselves loudly on and off inside her Head in an unrelenting fire drill of caution. “But… why not?”

“Because.” Al Rodnam stated simply. “We already have.”

WHAT !!?? HOW THE FUCK COULD THAT BE ??? DISKOVER HOW AND WHY THE FUCK MAGDALENA DOESN’T REMEMBER THE FUCKING SEX THAT MAY OR MAY NOT’VE OCCURED… NEXT !!! -MIKE EYE

THE AQUEOUS TRANSMISSION eBook by MIKE EYE – 9781499902440 | Kobo

 

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Now You can read The Aqueous Transmission for $3.33 on Kobo!

THE AQUEOUS TRANSMISSION NOW AVAILABLE!!!! 😃

THE AQUEOUS TRANSMISSION

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☆ 27. The First and Last Godhed of Bry Dellows Kasts the Spell of Solaria Upon the Mother

 

 

 

Excerpted From The Aqueous Transmission By MIKE EYE

 

 

 

Episode V. / Chapter 27


SEVERAL HOURS LATER, MAGDALENA FOUND HERSELF IN conversation with the old man, having eventually come to. He was about four feet short, with a long scraggly beard about three-and-a-half feet long. His Eyes remained totally wrapped up with strands of his long, grey hair. Dark robes hung loosely about the old man’s frame. He would remain camouflaged per order of the almighty Lachrylon.

Mother Magdalena was still groggy from her passing out. She could only see a tiny bit of the old man’s skin, just barely enough to notice the deep wrinkles.

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“So, what happened to me?? Who are you?!

“You saw what happened,” replied the man softly, deeply, “And my name is Al Rodnam. Pleasure.” And the old man held out a gruff hand toward the Mother.

Lina, still suffering the after-effects of the Delirium, paused momentarily, cocked her head slightly to the side warily, squinted her Eyes at the man, then reluctantly extended her hand out to shake.

But she quickly retracted it, all of a sudden remembering crucial parts of what she had seen in Amrita’s recording.

“Waaaiit a second..!” She was irritated. “Okay, where did you come from? And where is my daughter?”

“You saw where I came from,” said Al Rodnam, “and, as I said earlier, I am your daughter.”

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“You’re clearly not my daughter,” snapped Lina. “Before. When you had me in that, that trance… What was all that commotion earlier with the storm and everything? And-and who or what was that speaking to you in that loud voice? … What is your connection to Fletcher Munsin?! And what is this about a sacrifice??” She spoke very fastly. “What the fuck is going on, here?!” shouted the Mother with a justifiable resentment.

Al Rodnam did not waste any time using his abilities to quickly rid Magdalena of these memories. She knew too much. With a momentary lifting of some hair from his Eyes, he shot a fierce stare with his big twinkling Eyes at the Mother, magically erasing from her memory everything she had watched on Amrita’s display. Lina stared back in a million mile daze, blind to the effects of Al Rodnam’s magic.

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After about a minute, just before he released his possession of Magdalena’s mind, he muttered some terse words to Amrita.

“If you mention this to your friend here, I’ll dismantle you in a jiffy.” Rita cowered kind of like a cat in response to this remark, its processing board functioning erratically, unable to select a fitting programmed response to the statement. Instead, it beeped annoyingly as it attempted to meow.

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Lina came to, shook her Head, raised a few fingers to her aching left temple with a grimace, and stared back at Al Rodnam.

The old man swiftly turned to her. “That’s okay,” said he curtly with a curtsy, “I know who you are anyway.” His Eyesight remained fixed in deadlock directly into Magdalena’s Dark, fuzzy Eyes and her gaze was fastened to the old man’s like a carabiner on belay with a taut rope hitched to the grittiest mountain climber.

Magdalena shook her Head again rapidly, rubbed her Eyes with two fists. She glared back at the old man who was still sitting in a lotus position upon Fucked-Earth.

“I am your counterpart, Magdalena,” said Al Rodnam perceptively, his face tilting slightly to the side. “We have met before. We are the only two human beings left on Earth right now. I have come to procreate with you, my lady. We must initiate the cycle yet again.” The man was very solemn.

Lina snapped at the old man spitefully. “I am not having sex with you. Can you take your hair down so I can see your face?? Is this a joke?!”

“This is no joke, my dear,” said the old man, “And don’t forget what Solaria told you, now.”

The Mother’s Eyes widened. “How do you know about what Solaria told me??” she asked in astonishment.

“I have been told by a third party source,” answered the old man cryptically. “And what is this slinky mechanical contraption you have with you, here?”

“This is Amrita, my lovable companion,” replied the Mother with a false, forced sense of geniality, attempting with failure to disguise how irate she felt. She pointed to her pet shakily, still rather bewildered by all that was happening.

The man turned his Head squarely to face Amrita and although his Eyes could not be seen, the little android was ninety-nine-point-nine percent positive that beneath the grey strands of hair hiding his Eyes, the old man was glaring menacingly at it. Luckily, Amrita was unable to feel fright. But if it could, it definitely would be exercising that emotion right about now.

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Amrita quickly weighed out the options it had of how to deal with the threat it had recently received from Al Rodnam, and so erroneously came to the conclusion that the best way to handle it was to delete the stored memory of the threat given to it, as well as what it was it was supposed to keep secret.

This execution may have been a programming flaw in its microprocessor.

It may not’ve been.

Nobody may ever know.

“Nice to meet you,” declared Amrita all-smiles with an extended shiny, metal paw.

Al Rodnam glared menacingly for a time at the scrap of kitty metal from behind his hairy head-wrap. Then, after a short while, he squinted his Eyes hesitantly before extending his old hand to shake the mechanical appendage.

“Okay, so let’s get going,” said the old man rising to his feet. He turned around and began walking.

“Where are we going?” asked Lina, still part-comatose.

“You’ll see. Follow me.”

And woman and pet followed the old man.

But after just a few steps, the man paused. Before they left the locale where the hovering glowing pond had been shimmering its enigma, Al Rodnam remembered something very important he had to do before he departed.

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It turned out that Al Rodnam was able to clearly see straight through his hairy blindfold, as if it weren’t even wrapped around his Head.

The man took a quick gander around the vicinity, coming to set Eyes on the bloodied umbilical cord of the Mother that was strewn into the dirt, the placenta still attached to it at one end. He shuffled over to it. The old man lifted his left leg slightly and brought a foot down hard upon the placenta, reached down to pick up the attached slimy cord with his right hand, and promptly snapped the cord robustly from the afterbirth with one strong, solid jerk.

Al Rodnam stood there silently, contemplatively. He slowly raised the umbilical cord with his right hand and examined it, letting it dangle in the air. His vision pierced through the hairy head-wrap at the cord and glanced at it inquisitively for a brief moment.

After a short while, the old man proceeded to slightly open his robe and bring the cord to his hairy chest, and, using both hands, gingerly tied the cord around his neck with a tight knot. Lina and Rita noticed not the peculiar smile that then spread over Al Rodnam’s aged face, his back to the Mother and pet.

“Let’s get a move on,” said the old man suddenly.

Lina and Rita looked at each other with slight hesitation, then reluctantly proceeded to follow the strange old man.

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The trio trekked on over the desolate tract for several hours in complete silence. It had remained at least 104˚ Fahrenheit since the Sun had appeared, precisely ninety-eight-point-six-nine degrees Fahrenheit at this very moment according to Amrita’s high-tech thermometer. And, as the voyagers would soon discover, a concise pattern of daylight and nighttime would Once again revolve the planet’s cycle, as the mighty global timeship would again begin spinning regularly upon its tilted axis, which was now far, far more tilted since the recent far-reaching, twelve-strand DNA-strung frightful fission sperm drop of Fletcher Munsin into the Mother’s oblivious chaotic Earth-birth canal. And because of this, the trio would also come to find that day and night were now both each approximately seventy-two hours long.

The Moon would once again wax and wane in its original manner, pulling upon the far fewer tides that now rippled over the surface of Fucked-Earth, taking exactly twenty-eight days to undergo a full phase of both the wax and the wane, every month. The only difference was that it remained an ominous crimson color due to the Liberation of Mandorla, henceforth permanently to exude its blood-born haze to forever smear its clever curse into the sky. The Dark Side of the Moon would still remain forever turned away from the planet, permitting only the Spirit of the Mother access to its underhanded surface energies. -MIKE EYE

☆ 22. Special Signet Spot Zero: No One and the Mother lock onto the Grail

“Dead things are formed from under the waters….”
—Job 26.5

 

from Episode V. The Aqueous Transmission of The Aqueous Transmission

 

 

 

[chapter TWENTY-TWO]


THE MEGA-PREGNANT MOTHER MAGDALENA UNFLAPPABLY MEANDERED onward through the pallid Darkness with a slouch atop the shadowy, scorched Earth, her scepter in seizure, Amrita by her side. She had her belly bulge in a desperate clutch and was feeling a cross between pissed off and delirious. She was unaware of precisely how long it had been since she had initially donned and activated the ancient, sanctified artifacts of Solaria’s golden, glowing dress and stone azure amulet subsequent to her formal Anointing, but the woman presumed it was getting close to at least six months’ time, for at least the time she was used to “keeping”.

And still the Sun did not rise.

There were no stars in the sky.

The only entity that could be seen from up above was the ultra-bright Full Moon which just barely lit enough sheen to guide the two on their way, the whereabouts of which remained a question in check, if indeed the duo were to query their course in the first place; for a while now the two lonely voyagers had been distraught, without a clue.

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And, most curiously, the Full Moon did not even wax, nor wane all this time.

It didn’t seem like it could.

There was something missing.

Magdalena would stop to sleep atop the most unsoiled surface she would so happen to stumble upon, and usually only after becoming extremely exhausted. The abomination of desolation that graced the disgraced ground with devastation turned up everywhere the two took an unsteady stride.

The Mother had run out of food and water long ago, but miraculously her glorious golden garb was supplying her with the necessary vital hydration and nutrients she needed to survive. Amrita’s situation was also sustaining despite the treacherous conditions of the land and atmosphere; the robotic feline’s crystalline power-core had enough juice in it to keep it functioning for at least 60,000 more years.

The duo had remained mostly silent thus far throughout their heedless journey over the sullied scattered sediments of Fucked-Earth, neither individual having the urge to initiate conversation. Occasionally, Lina would fall upon the thought of what Solaria had demanded of her, as well as ponder the plenty of positions on precisely how on Fucked-Earth she would be able to carry the demands out. She felt frustrated but sucked it up as best she could, knowing there was nothing she could do to better the circumstance.

Every now and again throughout her travels Lina would receive a potent panicky sensation impulsively inch its way up the back of her throat, prompting in her a desire to scream and throw a fit. The woman would try hard to contain herself each time she became afflicted as such. She would occasionally call out to Solaria in hopes that the great power would heed her pleas, but the Mother never received a response. All along her travels, the heavy air of frustration over her predicament had not once loosened its grip on the Mother’s mood and aspirations.

Until now.

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The precious azure jasper amulet of Solaria, which was dangling against the cold Heart of the Mother, now began to suddenly tap into a communion with some foreign source she unexpectedly felt present on the planet at this time.

And it seemed to be calling to her!

Not two miles onward in the direction she felt drawn to by her amulet, Lina could faintly hear, as well as see on the fringes of her periphery, an ultra-high-frequency hum in the distance that was psychedelically pulsating a powerful cerulean sparkle that kept an Earthy, tribal rhythm at a steady tempo.

With a staticky jolt suddenly skulking up the back of her spine, Magdalena abruptly felt more at ease than she had in quite a while. Finally, she thought, there had been some sort of contact.

For the following several hours, she allowed herself to be gently lulled to the twinkling, subtle power that was reacting strongly with her amulet. Miraculously, Magdalena had become able to use the talisman’s intense powers to guide her through the muddled shadows and on toward the source that was indeed beckoning her so.

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Having now a destination, the Mother so took stride with a whole different style.

Fully energized, Magdalena slowly started to glow more and more vividly about her chest as she came closer and closer to the source that was drawing her in.

After many hours of travel from that point onward, a great deal of the scattered scrap and piles of ashy junk that had littered the surface of the dark, charred terrain of which woman and pet had thus far traversed, spread out as they strode forth, the wreckage slowly clearing to dissipation so as to soon start to supply the scenery with the semblance of barren wasteland. As the duo kept on, the super-psychedelic energies that were emanating from Lina’s amulet grew stronger and stronger still.

Before long, a sparkling, most striking vision appeared in the distance that was a stark contrast to anything she had trekked past thus far. The vision was before the Mother, up ahead a ways, and clashing in confounding conflict with the expansive vista of charred wasteland she was immersed within.

And perplexed by it immensely, the Mother soon decided to regard the vision as mere mirage. After all, in all probability being the only creature roaming the planet post-apocalypse, there very well could be no telling at all whether she had become a complete lunatic.

But upon approaching the curious, shimmering image, Lina decided to have second thoughts about it being an hallucination. There was a subtle brightness that moved like a small sly siren of sorts over the midline of the floating watercourse that was twinkling enigmatically, very much in the manner of UFOs reported during the days of old.

She paused, bedazzled in sheer stupefaction.

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Amrita popped a squat beside her. “What is it?” it asked the Mother.

“Rita, do you see that? Just ahead?” the Mother asked, hushed, pointing before her with her hand that was holding the iron-wrought scepter.

“What exactly are you referring to?” asked Amrita.

Lina tilted her head slowly to the left, all Eyes still locked onto the twinkling vision just before her. She bugged out her Eyes.

“Rita… I… Rita, there’s something there.”

The android shot a blank stare ahead and then looked back at Lina.

Magdalena slowly squinted her Eyes, staring ahead intently.

After a couple of minutes, she took a hard blink, shook her Head, and exhaled deeply, rubbing her Eyes.

“Rita, I think I’m hallucinating.”

“What do you see?” asked Lina’s mechanical companion insensibly.

Magdalena then caught a sudden ultra-vivid sensation of déjà vu the moment she somehow seemed to recognize the patterns in the blistered shatter cones embedded in the inglorious jagged substratum on either side of the apparent apparition, and she could feel tinges of radiation in the air that were bolstered by her mighty glowing golden dress. She felt exceedingly hot as she and Amrita continued to walk toward the vision, sweat starting to trickle down her face. Before the Mother shone enigmatically what seemed to her to be some sort of wavering, brilliant photo-sonic phantom waterbed of exquisite, glittering bright white light. And it had a blue tinge to it.

“There’s, like, a huge shimmering pond straight ahead, Rita…” Lina articulated slowly, “like, floating above the ground… wow, it’s beaming, Rita!” The seeming mystifying body of water mimicked the bright Full Moon up above most brilliantly.

“I see no such thing,” remarked Amrita.

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The woman slowly stepped toward the vision before her, Amrita stealthily slinking along by her side with reluctance.

About thirty-three yards ahead, Lina came to a stop.

She knelt down.

Her jasper amulet was now emitting so much energy that her whole torso glowed vigorously with hazy light-blue rays that exuded off of her in slothful, glossy wisps.

Before her, there seemed to exist a calm, clean, fresh glowing pond hovering just slightly over the ground with wonderfully shiny reflections rippling through it in silver sparkles that were emblazoned with golden lace.

And it had a blue tinge to it.

Mouth widened with mystery, Lina reached her hand out to touch the water and her fingers slipped into the wetness dreamily. She lightly latched up her Eyelids and allowed the tranquil essence of the liquid to enfold her wrist.

There, Magdalena remained, expressionless, mesmerized for a timeless instant. During the occurrence, her experience was psychedelically imprinted onto the morphogenetic field of the human race at a particularly high frequency.

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Before long, the entire body of the Mother was surging with warm, potent prana, and she became extremely euphoric. A peaceful smile had been forged upon the precious disgraced face of the gorgeous dark Mother. Her upper body, and now also the area of perceived space three feet directly above her head, had begun shining big beams of white light outward, with hazy blue wisps exuding from the beams’ edges. It was getting so bright within the local vicinity that Lina almost forgot that the flora and fauna of Fucked-Earth still boasted a most murky nocturnal ambiance all elsewhere.

NEXT: MOTHER AQUA-TRIPP. -MIKE EYE

☆ 31. Amrita Brings Magdalena to Her Secret Underworld of Wonder

 

 

 

…from Episode VI. 

 

[chapter THIRTY-ONE]______________________________

INSTANTLY, HER WORLD WAS TRANSFORMED AS SHE JUST AS SOON stepped into a most magnificent warm, tropical environment, with all kinds of lush, exotic flowers and plantlife of the most stunning colors overlying the land that was spotted with wonderful, exotic forest creatures — some airborne — busily bustling about, adding slight, wondrous sounds to the atmosphere. Not a single cloud was to be seen in the sky above, and the atmosphere had a sort of brightness to it that Lina had never seen present upon the Earth she was used to. So extraordinarily bright it was, yet not in the least bit blinding. Lina had noticed straightaway how amazingly fresh the air smelled, as she thought she seemed to be reaching an exceptionally High state of being just by breathing in the air around her. She found it instantly incredible.

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After an amount of time she was not aware had passed, inadvertently too shocked beyond belief to quite remember precisely what had transpired as she strolled along with her pet, Magdalena faintly muttered a few words ever-so-slowly.

“W-woww… this place… it’s soo… u-uhh… I’ve never seen… I can’t believe this place!!” Lina was utterly flabbergasted.

High above and all around the two explorers flourished an exquisite lush canopy made from leaves of the enormous rain trees standing tall before them, partly shading the two creatures from above. A generous amount of gorgeous, vivid sunlight was glimmering through recesses in the treetops aloft, the leaves gently swaying in a calm, cool breeze most exotic. Abound all about, amongst these boastful rain trees of a grandeur unparalleled prevailed peacefully countless other tropical trees and plants and flowers of so many different kinds and colors and designs. This was unique, comforting foliage the likes of which Mother Magdalena had never before seen, or at least so she thought.

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Scores of various peculiar avian animals of the most honorable exuberance dotted the clear sky time and again with quick vibrant flickers, engendering a rich range of chirps and squeaks and calls that diffused throughout the air and generated a perfectly harmonized network of intimate audibility. The middling breeze drifting tranquilly through this exotic land was remarkably fresh.  There were low levels of humidity in the air. No insects of any kind were present. Amid the cool forest shade, the temperature felt perfectly suitable for a typical human-being, with slight calming breezes coming to periodically blow on by.

The ecosystem of this sacred homeland seemed to be striving in complete joy and unity. Woman and serpent leisurely brushed past the flourishing flamboyance of vibrant Monstera trees, the enormous bright-green leaves bearing intricate symmetrical patterns imprinted in curious silver and white designs all over them. The splendor of vivacious Heliconias were also decorating the thick brush of this most striking secret jungle. Lady and Serpent continued to meander on through the enchanted rainforest, the woman totally awestricken, soaking up the scenery most pleasantly as the two of them stepped lightly through the greenery, the profuse colors and patterns of the undergrowth clutching their Heads in a light trance as these magnificent tropics that sprawled out as far as the Eye could see boasted a most profound vivacity just by Being, and being Observed. Magdalena Saw how perfectly harmonized this flourishing environment in fact truly was.

“I certainly can understand why you’re speechless,” said Amrita softly after a while as the two ever-so-leisurely strolled along, their Heads slowly rolling around in all directions, taking it all in, their glances glazing over all the remarkable wildlife striving so vibrantly all around them.

Striking sounds of strident, sensual birdsong merged with the surrounding area and started to coalesce with the resonance of the gracious trickling of a small Waterfall to be Heard in the near distance. Magdalena grew excited as they approached a thin, fresh fluidic ribbon wavering peacefully on through the wondrous jungle. The Mother quickly scurried up to the edge of the fresh stream upon sight of it, Eyes growing wider with each nearing stride and she came to drop quickly to her knees atop the cool bank upon her approach, posing to pucker a pout as she proceeded to purse her lips with poise, sucking eagerly against the placid fleeting rivulets.

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After several sips of the special Water, Magdalena splashed some of it over her face with flawed modesty, executed with mindful rhythm several essential breaths of air most pure, then immediately thereafter took an innocent peek at her reflection in the Water. This reflexive gesture, in retrospect, had appeared to the woman to be involuntary Once she re-assessed what she had just done; she felt unconsciously compelled to see her reflection immediately following her freshening. Noticing her ignorant reflexive reaction for what it was, Lina received swift chills straight up her arms and back.

The woman was glaring down innocently at a blurry, diluted face she knew to be that of Mother Magdalena. And, as her instincts then directly informed her, she, herself was Mother Magdalena. Although in this place she somehow almost didn’t feel like herself.

In the deep recesses of her mind, as she considerately gazed down into the stream, she thought she heard the uncanny unspeakables of the almighty Solaria assert to her its most powerful articulation. And, within seconds, she figured that this was indeed so, as she slowly began to feel the golden fibers of her familiar translucence Once again wrap elegantly about her lithe frame. Once again, the Mother was revitalized, protected, and sustained.

Mother Magdalena continued to stare back at herself through the sacred Waters of this phantom riverbed as she felt lulled to a most peaceful deliberation.

Lost in deeply personal far-out thought, she was gazing down almost through her reflection. Momentarily unaware that her reflection went fuzzy to the point of unrecognition, her mind started drifting toward possible ideas of how she was to restart humanity and procreate to the utmost.

After a timeless instant, a sacred moment that seemed to fulfill her purpose, Magdalena abruptly came to as she distinctly noticed her throat flare up in menacing pain, unable to hear her own maniacal screams abruptly being released with outlandish, terrible squeals in a most high, disharmonic pitch, a staunch sound that collided distastefully with the beautiful sounds around her, surely unable to be recognized by any of her kin had they been present.

A moment later, upon being jerked back to full Consciousness, her deep thoughts having swiftly scattered all about her, a horrified, deeply disturbed Mother Magdalena saw herself involuntarily splashing her reflection below her repeatedly with a most forceful swing of her hand, wrought throughout her mind, soul, and body with post-traumatic panic and torment. Seconds later, after she had composed herself, glaring back at her was no longer the image of what she thought her Watery manifestation had just fleetingly transmuted into.

For, she had just undoubtedly seen, as her reflection, the wide-Eyed, triple-optic abstraction of the gruesome face of an alive, beheaded Fletcher Munsin glaring back at her from the pond. -MIKE EYE ⊙

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☆ 4. The Triple-Eyed Head of Fletcher Munsin breaks into Magdalena’s Cockpit

 

Excerpted from Episode I. of MIKE EYE’S The Aqueous Transmission, a novel

 

[chapter FOUR]


SHE EXHALED A DEEP SIGH OF RELIEF AS SHE PLACED HER BACK against the reinforced door‭, ‬her cool, bitter lust-muscle beating‭ ‬rapidly and out-of-rhythm‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

In front of Magdalena was her special bed‭. ‬It was queen size‭, ‬made of memory foam‭, ‬and decked out with darkly colored bedsheets that bore elaborate tribal designs throughout‭. ‬The sheets were tattered, filthy, and had many holes in them‭. ‬Lying upon‭ ‬the bed was the recently deceased Fletcher Munsin‭, ‬Shadow of the last man on Earth‭, ‬quintessence of Lachrylon‭, ‬and recently reclaimed by Magdalena in an isolated part of a world now destroyed‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

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Throughout her lifetime‭, ‬Lina had always figured she would eventually find the last‭ ‬of the Godheds‭; ‬it was only a matter of time, she knew, before she did‭. Alas, she would never come to know that whom she actually did in fact come to locate was ultimately not exactly the very person she had supposed.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Eliciting a most impassioned form of temptation‭, ‬an erotic display of seduction unable to be equally exemplified by even any of her favored adult sisters‭ — ‬the Hunters known as Hankerhawks‭ — ‬Lina had finally had her Wicked way with the man‭. ‬After an intense fornication‭, ‬an act that had in fact fulfilled her purpose‭, ‬Lina had finished the man off in her brutal trademark style‭: ‬castration by way of mastication‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

It reeked horrendously of decaying flesh in Lina’s‭ ‬bedroom‭; ‬she had originally planned on severing the Body parts of the man and ditching the pieces into deep-space via the ship’s toilet shaft shortly after she had committed the sanctified act‭. But she had become too distracted. ‬Lina buried her nose in her dress and proceeded to take shorter‭, ‬shallower inhales‭ ‬as to limit the amount of potent stench entering her nostrils‭.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

At Lina’s feet was Amrita‭, ‬purring louder than usual and rubbing its robot nose on her left shin‭. ‬Still a tad frantic‭, ‬Lina lightly kicked the android aside‭. “‬Not now‭, ‬Rita‭,” ‬said Lina frustratingly‭, “‬this is no time for cuddling‭.” ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Beside the android was the‭ ‬soggy‭, ‬gory pancreas of Fletcher Munsin that‭ ‬Lina had brutally extracted from the meek‭, ‬maimed man‭, ‬whereon revealed the curiously inscribed revelatory statement foretelling the impending catastrophe of planet Earth‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

And it would seem that Lina had received this message just in time.

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‬Amrita backed up a bit from Lina and then hopped up‭, ‬almost as gracefully as a cat‭, ‬onto the bed where the decaying Fletcher Munsin lay resting in torment‭. ‬Overcome with an intoxicating feeling of despair‭, ‬Lina dropped slowly to the floor‭, ‬dragging her back alongside the door from which she still remained pressed up against‭. ‬As her ass hit the ground‭, ‬Lina somberly dropped her sore head to her hands that rested upon her propped knees‭.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

The woman sobbed and tried to process through her cranial cavity everything that was happening‭. ‬She noticed the radiance of her powerful dress flickering on and off‭. ‬She ached all over‭, ‬and the center of her forehead was throbbing in agony‭. ‬She felt like she was becoming broken‭. ‬And this was very unusual‭! ‬she noticed to herself‭, ‬as she had always been the most powerful and collected of the beings among her race‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Or so she had thought‭.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

“‭There’s no way I’m the only one left on the planet‬”‭ ‬she thought to herself‭, ‬becoming scared‭ as she began considering the worst. ‬She had no idea Fletcher Munsin and the power of Lachrylon could take away all she had spent generations creating‭; ‬at least she didn’t think she did‭. ‬Lina felt more than had‭; ‬she felt intentionally mislead in the opposite direction‭.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

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Contemplating her predicament as she sat crying on the floor‭, ‬an unusually loud‭ ‬mechanical meow came from the robotic cat on her bed‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

‭”‬Shutup‭, ‬Rita‭!” ‬Lina yelled‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

She scanned her bedroom briefly‭. ‬She didn’t know what it was‭, ‬but she felt something misaligned in it‭. ‬Sensing something strange‭, ‬the Mother was slowly realizing that she‭ ‬was starting to be confronted head-on by that‭ ‬familiar‭ ‬hostile‭, ‬enigmatic force that loved to chase her‭, ‬but it was enhanced‭ ‬exceedingly‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

It loomed‭ ‬in her room ominously‭, etheric. ‬Glaring at her face‭.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Again came another loud raspy meow from Amrita‭. ‬Lina’s head was pounding‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

‭”‬Shutup‭!‬‭” ‬she exclaimed as she rose to her feet‭, ‬pointing toward the android on her bed‭, ‬scolding it‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

And that was the moment she beheld it‭. ‬The horrific vision from the nightmare she had had on the eve before the sacred seduction‭ was playing out in her waking life. ‬In front‭ ‬of her‭, ‬Magdalena was baring witness to her robotic pet licking the dead man’s gruesome‭, ‬severed neck whereupon his Head no longer remained attached‭.‬‭ ‬Lina had not beheaded the gentleman‭, ‬and had not the slightest clue as to how his head had become detached‭ ‬from his body‭. ‬As far as she could remember‭, ‬the man still had his head when she had ripped out his insulin-secreting organ‭.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

For the next five minutes or so‭, ‬Lina felt a‭ ‬perverse lust‭ ‬to gawk at Fletcher Munsin and Amrita‭, ‬her mouth gaping‭, ‬perplexed‭ ‬at the display of odd conjunction before her‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

‬Her injuries briefly grew numb‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

‬She saw the man’s coagulated entrails slowly oozing out of his mangled lower body‭, and his two tourniquet-tied stubs were awkwardly poking out on either side, paying homage to her fucked sanctity. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

‬She shivered‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

‬Feeling a slight bit of embarrassment‭, ‬Lina felt as though she were possessed to stare at‭ ‬the two‭, ‬getting some kind of a sick rise out of the scene‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

She was sweating‭.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

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Then it came to her‭. ‬Where indeed‭ ‬was‭ ‬the dead man’s head‭?! She knew what had happened to his legs: she had ripped them off. But where was his Head? ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

‬Determined to find it‭, ‬Lina‭ ‬hurriedly‭ ‬searched her room‭; ‬in her bookshelf‭, ‬in her closet‭, ‬under her bed she searched‭.‬‭ ‬Nowhere was the man’s Head able to be found‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

And then‭, ‬as she was reluctantly ripping apart her bed sheets to investigate therein‭, ‬Lina heard a very loud‭, ‬slightly muffled shattering come from the ship’s helm through her shut door‭. ‬She paused‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

And her mind seemed to abruptly connect the dots before she had a chance to whip out a pen.

She didn’t‭ ‬have to think twice about what that noise might’ve been‭. ‬It clicked‭. ‬An eerie insight as to where the head may have been hiding took ahold of her‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Lina trembled as she thought to herself‭: ‬No fucking way‭. ‬That’s impossible‭.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

What the f@*# actually just happened at the ship’s helm?? Stay tuned to find the f☆%* out !! -MIKE EYE ⊙

☆ 30. Snake-Rita Reveals to Magdalena her Newfound Access to a One High Telepathic Archaic Wisdom Kollective

 

from The Aqueous Transmission by MIKE EYE

Episode VI. / Chapter 30


 

MOTHER MAGDALENA AWOKE AT SUNRISE, TOOK A PISS, THEN WENT to go find Al Rodnam for some Water. Since the company’s arrival at Bry Dellows, the old guru tended to wonder off quite a bit during unexpected times, and so there wasn’t any expectation for the man to implement any sort of routine into his daily doings.

The woman took pensive heed of the sprawling landscape before her that was so littered with scores of small black scraps of disintegrated wreckage, felt that now-all-too-familiar feeling of abandonment as she strode onward. This sprawling new environment was, however, a great deal easier for her to bare all-in-all, the Mother thought to herself, when weighed against the hindrance of all the huge piles of charred shit chaotically strewn about every which way as the case had been ever since she had received any divine communion with the inimitable, glorious jasper amulet of Solaria.

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She spotted the old man about half a mile away and as she approached the elusive mystic she began to see him mindfully crouched upon the ground next to four long, clean pieces of still-living branches of wood that he was considerately carving small symbols into. Lina straight-away noticed, as implausible as it seemed, that the branches looked recently detached. How can that be? she asked herself. But Magdalena, having recently become accustomed to trusting her Eyes whole-heartedly, was able to shake off any doubt that gripped her as she dumbly accepted the strange Truth she now saw.

“Good Morning,” said the Mother as she approached the seasoned guru.

“Good Morning.” The man, without glancing up at the Mother, spoke those two words quietly, deliberately, the sounds of his low voice touched with a solemn candor.

“What are you doing?” asked Lina in slight wonder. “Wow, those tree branches look alive still! Such smooth surfaces…” The Mother glanced quickly all around her. “Hey, where the Hell did you find any living undergrowth around here?” the woman asked in growing astonishment.

Lina listened to near-dead silence.

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“Okayy… can I have some Water?” asked Lina, at Once realizing it would be entirely useless to query any further the old man’s humble undertaking.

Al Rodnam modestly handed Magdalena his vibrantly decked gourd with one hand while continuing to keep his other hand whittling away at one of his four wooden sticks, his Eyes remaining fixed intently on his work before him. The Mother took a hearty swig. She remarked puzzlingly to herself over how there always seemed to be more Water in Al Rodnam’s gourd than it could hold; she had never before seen it empty. And it always seemed to weigh the same.

“We need to talk,” said the Mother abruptly, determinedly with earnest. “It’s been three days since we’ve holed up here, and you haven’t told me at all yet what your plans are. Honestly, I’m a bit frustrated!”

Since they had arrived at the Hollow, the Mother had constantly been thinking about her strange relationship with the old man, what it was exactly that he had been up to since they had gotten there, and how she really didn’t want to have intercourse with him at all in order to commence the procreation. But Solaria’s words would periodically storm into her head, rattling themselves in the mind of the Mother, taunting her, and, after some inner dialogues with her inner self, she so ultimately came to the conclusion that she would sleep with the old man in order to save humanity, as wretched as the idea seemed to her.

“Well, I was thinking we take a lil’ while to get used to the place, you know? Just feel it out for a little bit before we call it Home, and just continue rummaging for supplies and makin’ due best we can.”

“And our ‘procreation?’” suggested the Mother with an elongated cringe.

“That will Cum, yes, it will Cum. When the time is right, my dear.” The man paused briefly from his project, his gaze still latched onto the sticks. “Any particular reason you’re nude?” he asked the Mother curiously.

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Lina glanced down at her tribally decorated, tall naked fine body to discover she wasn’t wearing her beloved dress of Solaria’s golden fibers. The woman screamed and momentarily panicked before remembering what snake-Rita had told her the previous evening. Without mentioning another word to the old guru, Lina took off in a sprint back to their campsite to locate snake-Rita, breasts bouncing about in a bounty most blissful. Lucky for her, because of how spread-out the arid terrain was at the Hollow, Lina did not have to worry about, yet again, falling flat on her face, which still remained bruised in several places.

After calling out for snake-Rita once she reached the campsite, it wasn’t long before the little sea-green creature came slinking along eagerly through the dust toward Lina.

“Heyy!” said the Mother earnestly after spotting the serpent, “Rita, what do you know about my powers?? Any more than from when you were a robot?” Lina still found it incredibly awkward to call the snake ‘Rita’.

“My memory from when I was fully mechanical is hazy to non-existent,” said the serpent in its strange low voice, rather robotically. “The fact that I have any recollection whatsoever of my days as a robot is due to my having previously somehow inadvertently singed two distinct, bizarre moments into the morphogenetic imprint of the human race, thereby making them available for recall.” Snake-Rita was as candid as could be, being just as straightforward as robot-Rita. And the snake started talking quite a bit. The Mother had to squat down to be able to completely hear what the serpent was saying, and she noticed its long yellow tongue continually sliding out the front of its mouth as it astonishingly spoke the human language with slight hisses. The serpent’s dark-green scales reflected a glossy purple tincture from the scarlet Harvest Moon that gleamed Heartily up Above with the blistering morning sunrays.

“What distinct moments?” asked the Mother inquisitively.

“Well, first off, I completely remember you, and our friendship, gladly. But as for the distinct moments, as peculiar as it may sound, the only two instances I can recall from being a robot were two occasions where I lapped up the blood from two individuals— a most-disturbing, dying headless male, and a mute, shaggy female infant, the Identities of which both entirely elude me. You see, the reason I remember these two instances, Al Rodnam helped me recall, was not just because I had somehow become Enlightened by somehow ‘tasting’ the Blood, but also because the particular male and particular female were both ‘more human than human’, and connected to each other.”

“What do you mean, Rita?” asked Lina, unconsciously knowing exactly what Amrita meant.

“I mean they were both Divine. And both remarkably similar in what my circuitry decoded as taste, even though each of my experiences were had in a different harmonic universe, and most likely, for all intents and purposes, in a different lifetime or lifetimes altogether.”

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Magdalena was silent momentarily, her face flushed with Contemplation as she thought it all over. But then, as a sudden unusual breeze flew by, the Mother so coming to notice how rather erect her rather large nipples had become, the topic of her dress suddenly bore forcefully to the front of priorities for the Mother to handle, and Magdalena so found herself asking the serpent about what it had meant with its strange statement the eve prior.

“Well I had a ‘feeling’ you would be needing a nutritional, protective, high-powering recharge sometime soon,” said the serpent, almost mechanically. “Fortunately, I discovered on my own two nights ago that ever since I’ve been living in this form, I’ve become equipped with a High, arcane knowledge of exactly how and where to enter the hidden space between the third and fourth dimensions, a magnetic repulsion zone that is necessary for the sustainability of all biological life forms existing with this planet. Al Rodnam told me this Ability was embedded in the bio-neurological cellular memory of my serpentine nature.

“The sacred place of rejuvenation of which I speak is within the Hollow. I explored this concealed area for several hours yesterday and am confident you will be able to find sacred energy resilient enough to be compatible with your sanctity. Please follow me.”

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Speechless, and way weirded out, her Head momentarily cocking to the side, the weakening Mother continued to follow the small serpent in a slow stony stupor. She was not completely sure she knew what the snake was talking about.

Over barely bulging banks of crispy particles of blackened cluttered rubble they trotted atop, noisily crunching their steps against the steaming Fucked-Earth, Mother Magdalena retaining steady drips of sweat about her knock-out hard body so tall and slender. It was especially sweltering on this day, definitely well above 100˚ Fahrenheit. Exceeding amounts of dusty grey scrap blew in frequent gusts with toxic, steamy, dark fumes through the ominous air, and the hot haze from the heat of the morning was diffusing into the atmosphere with its hallucinogenic sways bending the appearance of space with its hotness. There were occasional piles of ruins scattered here and there throughout the nearby land, but other than that, the surface of the Hollow was bleak, downcast.

The Mother kept on for about twenty minutes behind the sure lead of snake-Rita, coughing here and there from the air so polluted, as she trudged with her heavy boots over the hot surface, astonished that the serpent knew exactly where it was going the whole way there.

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And the Mother felt compelled to ask as they sauntered along, “So… your body just feels magnetized right now? Like… its being pulled to the secret spot, is that it?”

“I don’t know, it’s weird to explain,” said Amrita in a strikingly similar manner to that of the mechanical feline voice of its robot form. “I’ve somehow managed to become instantaneously, intimately involved with a High telepathic network of collective Wisdom most archaic, most archaic indeed, Lina.”

“What kind of Wisdom, Rita”

“Wisdom imparted by the Knowledge and mindful engagement of the overlain Earth and Angelic Human organic Templar dimensional-lock systems.”

“You mean to say that Earth has a stargate system?” posed Magdalena.

“Precisely! Or, more accurately, Earth IS a stargate system” stated the serpent slyly with a slight hiss. And just as it said so, Amrita unexpectedly ceased its slinking at a location not at all different in appearance from the rest of the area in the local vicinity; in fact the spot looked just as any other space within the greater part of the whole Hollow.

“Here, at this very location, is where One of the stargates in the system is situated.”

“Right here? I don’t see anything,” affirmed the Mother.

“Yes, right here, it’s not one of the stargates that leads to other galaxies or anywhere else; in fact it leads somewhere very close-by in one sense: right into the center of this here Fucked-Earth, where there exists, flipped inside-out and rotated upwards a half a dimension, a world similar, in One sense, to the depleted surface of this here Fucked-Earth we pass over right now at this very instant… except it’s not destroyed… in fact it’s healthy, super amazingly healthy, its Highly developed governing energies not at all running like the dysfunctional mind projections of the late disgraceful surface-beings that had, over many generations, wired together a totally fucked network, a most grim, damaged subtle structuring that was part of the very root cause of the recent brutal decimation of all living systems on Earth along with the kindling of the excessively massive nuclear explosion to brusquely usher in a new epoch.”

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The serpent was agile. “Yes, this special place is far less populated than the surface societies tend to get. You’ll see, it’s lush and thriving tremendously!” The snake paused, a certain vindication reshaping its tone. “But that doesn’t mean a Goddamn thing to me. Being the serpent I now am has definitely intrinsically rendered me viciously opposed whole-heartedly to extravagant expositions of green Earth trees and plants, whether in or out of the planet; the sight of them arouses a sense of nausea most intoxicating to my phantom pituitary.”

“Wow,” said Lina as she pondered it all over. Then abruptly she let out a wail. “…Hey, by the way, those “late disgraceful surface-beings” of whom you spoke were my sisters!! You may not remember who they are, but I do! I lost my whole Sisterhood, my life— just like that!!” The Mother began to break down with rapidly accumulating tear drops that kept dribbling down her sleek face with the keenest sense of loving pain.

And just then, the docile Amrita coiled itself up intently, then released itself, springing up about four feet into the air leaving in its wake vibrant flashes of light chased by glitters of colorful enchantment that conjured forth a subtley sucking vulva-like vortex with a pulsating core that bended the space-time of that small spot on Fucked-Earth into time-space.

“Follow me,” said Amrita coolly before making a giant leap right into the very center of the pulsating vortex and disappearing inside. She left a subtle rainbow in her wake.

The Mother shrugged her shoulders and nonchalantly stepped into the stargate. -MIKE EYE

[TUNES KURRENTLY ON ROTATION]

[Animals As Leaders]

The Madness of Many

☆ 11. The Prophecies of Al Rodnam

 

Al Rodnam’s Prophecies,

According to [Episode II] of

MIKE EYE’S The Aqueous Transmission, a novel

 

 

 

[chapter ELEVEN]


AGE AFTER AGE, THE MILKY WAY GALAXY, UNDER TOP-SECRET control, became more and more distorted, as more and more incarnated souls caught within it got further and further away from their Origin, ultimately producing mass amnesia and perpetual violence among the masses.

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Within the current incarnation of the planet Earth at this time in the story‭ (which, it turns out, is literally a carbon copy of any other time on the planet due to the Curse of Lachrylon and Solaria), ‬there was, as to be expected, an abundance of mostly oblivious life forms upon its surface‭, ‬appearing in one instance as physical 3-D creatures‭ ‬that had evolved grotesquely defiled due to repetitive incest in tandem with highly fastidious conceptions‭, the Chosen of these creatures coming to exist with DNA chromosomes that paradoxically exemplified physically feminine and mentally left-brain-dominant traits‭, ‬exclusively‭.‬‭ ‬These human entities‭, ‬known as the Loombugs‭, disgraceful yet beloved ‬daughters of the Mother‭ as they so were, ‬had existed together in Synchronization by a Collective‭ ‬Unconscious that sought to seek out its Higher existence chiefly by means of Ritual Bloodpig Feeding Sacrifice as well as the erroneous execution of devious Divinations of Runosophy‭.‬ ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Yes, Runosophy.

Runosophy that was reinforced religiously amongst the Loombugs on a daily and nightly basis by the Bry Dellows Hankerhawks.

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There was a wayward star in the Milky Way for every Loombug that lived‭. This is why they all twinkled. ‬And because of the Darkly vibrating frequencies now infesting the local airwaves of Earth, all of these repulsive, mostly mute creatures would come to all hold within their makeup‭ ‬several latent‭, ‬non-functional strands of DNA that existed with the capacity to become assembled and activated by their person’s Consciousness through surreptitious Initiations‭. ‬Unfortunately‭, ‬approximately only One in twenty-five Loombugs were/was able to do this by understanding and practicing the teachings of the Hankerhawks‭, ‬which were exemplified only through many personal unique experiences of supposedly sacred and vital tribal rituals in various instances simultaneously. That One rare and aware Loombug would then be ready for her Initiation into Hankerhawk-hood.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Becoming a Hankerhawk meant joining the elite sisterhood of their tribe which functioned exclusively as its own completely separate‭ ‬Collective Unconscious. It came to be synchronized with those unique left-brain-dominant females that were responsible for the presence of each Moon in the Milky Way belonging to a particular planet in a corresponding planetary rotation‭. ‬Known‭ ‬as the Hankerhawks‭, ‬these special Earthling-human-hybrid incarnations‭, ‬each having fatefully inherited a recessive gene‭, ‬were able to tap into a higher presence than the Loombugs‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

‬Initially all being born into the tribes as Loombugs‭, ‬the uniquely enhanced innate abilities these select few females were able to exemplify were usually noticed by their elders during the girls’ adolescent years‭, ‬after which they customarily underwent mystery-school-type initiations to be formerly inducted into the Hankerhawk circles‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

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This rare‭, ‬ferocious High Union devoted itself‭, ‬not just to basic procreation‭, ‬which it found essential‭, ‬but also to the deliberate parasitic methods of a seek-and-destroy ideology‭, ‬targeting the rare individual mystical male forces that would eventually each come to lay scattered separately upon the Earth‭, loaded with energy, ‬shrouded in mystery‭. ‬These peculiar tendencies were directly influenced by the cynical deeds of the extragalactic alien entities bent on Milky Way dominion and exploitation.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Each of the targeted elusory‭, ‬sanctified mystics‭ the Hankerhawks would come to hunt down — ‬those beings known as the Godheds‭ — ‬were among the few fortunate wholly right-brain-dominant males who had felt an innate urge, and possessed a rare skill, not only to be able to appear physically upon the Earth, but to be able to escape their Mothers at a very young age‭, ‬and succeeded in doing so‭, ‬each able to corrode conformity by defying their ‘presumed destiny’ of becoming a Gilded Grunt‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Eventually‭, ‬a few generations around the circle‭, ‬it would become the Hankerhawks’‭ ‬prime goal to seek out these Godheds‭, ‬each of whom lived his own private life in blissful Solitude, somewhere on or in One version of Earth, and completely isolated from other human-hybrid creatures, ‬aligning with his very own planet in‭ ‬the galaxy‭. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Hundreds of generations since the Tribal Regenesis rounded the cycle of trapped time, locked into a perfect artificially programmed precession, the doomed planet Earth spun and spun and spun on a severely warped, tilted axis. Toward climax of a full galactic precession of Dark, deceptive times which had Cum to dominate Forever, there would Cum to exist only One remaining Godhed nowhere to be found‭.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

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Practically since the inception of the current Age of Pisces‭, ‬it was known all around that the Hankerhawks were equipped with the natural ability to completely dominate each Godhed‭, able to ‬cradle them with their compelling Dark Light after they would craftily lure them into their trap, coming to utilize their own unique, precise formulas‭ of Tracking they trained with, if only this could be executed. The major setback presented to these Hunters was that they were seemingly never able to accomplish this charge, the Godheds always keeping themselves exceptionally well-hidden‭,‬‭ ‬sometimes even (presenting themselves) as entirely invisible to the vicious women Hunters‭.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Capturing a Godhed would come to be each elite Hankerhawk’s prime goal of fulfilling their legendary, Divine Purpose of Existence.

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Each Black Hole that appeared in the galaxy was a prototype for a corresponding Gilded Grunt upon Planet Earth‭, ‬each of these despicable grunts being one of an unfortunate, exclusively right-brain-dominant male being who had been born gravely mentally retarded‭ and disfigured, and ‬lacking any sort of brilliance whatsoever‭. ‬As part of what would become ritual sacrifice for the dominating women on Earth‭, ‬as well as what would become an effort to control the population by means‭ ‬of the most extreme kind of gender selection‭, ‬it would become customary in the civilization during the Age of Aquarius for a Hankerhawk to slaughter all males born into their tribe. But this would be, of course, after the Hawks would have harvested enough grunts for the jobs that needed to be done for the community, jobs that, if left untaken would not allow for a sustainable culture, as fucked-up and familiar a culture it may turn out to be.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

As told in this tale, it would be during the first few generations of the new era that the most dominant Hankerhawk tribe half-alive on a post-apocalyptic Fucked-Earth would come to ceremonially castrate their tantrically-conceived newborn‭ male‬ “grunts” at birth‭, ‬thus rendering them‭ ‬“gilded‭,‬”‭ soon to be ‬sent off on their lowly ways to then live lives of harsh enslavement.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

It would be merely a few hundred years of generations along the path of the Aquatic Age henceforth, indeed in the course of its most vexing, ever-re-spawning End-Times, that the Mother and her twelve closest would be at the apex of their clandestine Hunt for the Last Godhed, Al Rodnam. Just as Al Rodnam always prophesized. And, yes, ‬in systematic retaliation of how‭ ‬“the women”‭ ‬treated‭ ‬“the man”‭ ‬in this abject incarnation of a most fucked Planet Earth‭, the elusive Al Rodnam would  ultimately be able to cunningly employ a method of mayhem to abruptly rip down the Earth’s terminal‭, ‬sacrificing a part of himself up in the most ultimate way to the greater good for the sole purpose of keeping his Soul linked to Love‭, while mindfully procreating with purpose and vast foresight.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

It was his vow to Lachrylon.

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‬At long last, but covertly during a very specific moment chosen by the last remaining Godhed — in truth a precise moment in time arbitrary to anyone else alive at the time — it would indeed be the shady, attractive and youthful half of Al Rodnam who would finally be willing to submit to the taunts of Solaria’s essence‭, ‬inevitably finding them excruciatingly insatiable‭. Yes, Al Rodnam, the very last Godhed to survive, would come to make Godamn sure that he, through his Shadow, Fletcher Munsin, would forcefully release his personally enhanced atomic seed into the womb of the Mother‭ in order to finally bring down the perpetual Blood-Red Full Moon brought about by the despicable Mandorla, ‬and thus likewise the whole of the land that the Mother and her top sisters sought to sow along with their mindless freaks of nature‭, ‬the Loombugs and their lovable pets, the Blood Pigs‭.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

It would soon be time for Fletcher Munsin to subconsciously summon the subtle‭, ‬sacred sperm with his steady psyche‭, and ‬fuse it together in space with ethereal partiki‭ ‬of the most widespread proportions‭. ‬He would need to focalize this overpowering formula of supercharged nucleic acid and adrenaline to his Muladhara chakra‭, ‬receiving full confirmation that his elixir of prominent fixture would not only reluctantly fuck the Mother‭, ‬but relentlessly fuck her over‭.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

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The man was fully aware that with this striking shot of his Sanctified Seed into the Mother‭ at that Divine Moment, made aware to him by noble Nammu of Europa, ‬he was Sacrificing his Soul in exchange‭ ‬for the Conception of Mandorla. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Yes, it would be the wretched, morbidly disfigured Mandorla who would undoubtedly eternally continue to call upon the wizened, bushy-bearded deep-space voyager in order to save herself in the future.

At any rate, this Divine Act would bring the great guru Al Rodnam’s reincarnated self about Once again, nonetheless‭.‬ For the next age. And the next. Except, each time slightly more enhanced than the previous time, having solely been able to Ascend his Soul during the apocalyptic annihilation and desecration that the fission of his Shadow Fletcher Munsin would no-doubt trigger to bring about downright destitution within the indigenous communities that would be destined to all ‘Cum to a Head’ on a specific future date calculated by an old guru by his mindful application of a simple, fixed algorithmic formula he had devised in his Head. The exponentially increasing stupidity rate among the tribes’ social structure that would fastly follow, despite all of Mother Magdalena’s “attempts to ‘keep things in line’,” would be guaranteed to be damn Damned Evermore.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Another of the old man’s prophecies.

In a flash of Divinity‭, ‬an atomic ball of light emanating from the Moon would be shot toward the Earth‭ ‬like a fiery asteroid with immense amounts of kinetic energy‭. ‬And‭, ‬just as it hit the surface of the Earth to ignite a vast Apocalypse‭, ‬nearly all of the entire galaxy’s supply of starlight would instantaneously burnout‭; ‬every black hole would collapse unto itself‭. ‬At the very end, the only radiance that would remain not to be observed by anyone from the surface of the Earth would be that of the Sun‭, ‬and of a blood-stained Fucked-Earth’s Moon‭, which would then promptly be reset in time-space in order to allow for the exact same thing to occur for the following age trapped within this cynical cycle of terror. ‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Every time from now on, during this very last moment at the end of the epoch, the same intense‭, ‬massive explosion would come to rattle the very center of the Earth‭. ‬And as a mushroom cloud the size of eternity then everlastingly bellowed up from‭ ‬the entire circumference of the planet‭ always directly following this fission, ‬always gradually gaining the very same volume and Darkness each time as it would come to expand up-and-outward‭, the same ‬huge fragments of terrain always blowing off the planet’s surface in several medium-sized colossal chunks as the Last Godhed to live on Earth Once again just barely dodged the destiny of combusting itself into the hyperspace of the Dark, deep cosmos for the interim.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬ -MIKE EYE

A HEAVY TRIP TO THE AQUARIUM

[KON-TEMP’S FLOWS] – Exhibit B.

A Heavy Trip to the Aquarium


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I aspire to inspire this great shattered expired Nation
With my words that I splatter to you drained Patrons
That cannot defeat the worries of deceit within
The streets will spin after hallucinogens begin to Set in

it was early one morning when
i decided to confide in the Psilocybin
& ride through my mind to the aquarium
& it took long to realize / after viewing through these new eyes
the surprise that I had been walking for mad miles in a delirium

& unlike my idoL
i believe the obscene scene that had been seen aS some serene dreaM
was rather vitaL
it’s a unique experience played out much like A written recitaL
so I’m gonna be wantin’ that shit hittin’ harD like waves from a tidaL

‘cause now I can compare what I had been staring at with my glares
to the views that’ll be perceived after I leave this funhouse affair

Then after I puffed the green / businessmen were All that was seen
As bees buzzing to mock monotonous flocks of Military regimes / of the US That care not to walk The walk of revolution
But came proud like hawks as separate parts to One big machine

that oversees this Sea Of Sorrow / always sneering at tomorrow
scornfully carrying out conspiracies that illicitly
spread the bent biases of subliminal propaganda like a quiet riot
through the ones & zeros of Mother Distraction to create compliance
solely to continuously feed the demon of addiction
through the syringe of deceit / ultimately bringing an adverse sense of affliction

you’re always benefiting from those ‘buy one, geT one free’ packs of ‘Fuck YoU’
while fueling up on a tasty plate of greed with A hot cup of a distorted vieW

& this is how it always works no matter if these actions always bring
constant violence & hatred among what is left of mankind that once new how to sing

So I was inside a honeycomb / large crowds of Clones
Separated / alone / faded & sedated
But I still felt back Home roamin’
Zoning out to unite with the numb
Dumbfounded in a social coma / my Soma meeting The Sun

to burn & be disposed of so that my psyche can become One with the sky / & be aligned with its kind so undeniably

across the galaxy / flawlessly / in the handS of the stars we seE
visions of what was Once lost but now founD around the emissionS
from incisions of nuclear fissions / resultinG in thought process collisionS
inside this full ride I discovered thE definitive decision / that I must makE
& that’s to stay baked & rape the fake liE
i’m comin’ correct with mad respect to thE effects of the fungI

– MIKE EYE ⊙

#12. THE SACRED SEDUCTION OF THE LAST GODHED’S SHADOW, PART II. FROM THE AQUEOUS TRANSMISSION BY MIKE EYE

DARK ESOTERIKA

THE SACRED SEDUCTION OF THE LAST GODHED’S SHADOW, PART II.

FROM MIKE EYE’S THE AQUEOUS TRANSMISSION, A NOVEL

DARKESOTERIKA.COM ENTRY #12

[chapter NINETEEN]______________________________________

THE LIFE WAS DRAINING FROM FLETCHER MUNSIN.

After a few minutes of wringing a considerable amount of blood from the feeble Fletcher Munsin in a most pitiless fashion, there was finally a ceasing of the ruthless activity.

Fletcher Munsin was indeed not dead. Not yet, anyway. His Eyelids remained closed, his Consciousness drifting through hyperspace.

*             *             *

AFTER WHAT SEEMED LIKE A LIFETIME, FLETCHER MUNSIN FINALLY came to, but his Eyes remained closed. He took in a few, very deep, vital breaths, in, out; in, out.

In, out.

He started remembering what was going on. He dared not open his Eyes. Felt numb.

Within a brief moment, however, came the voice of the Mother…

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