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The Realm of Destruction...

I floated to the start of the stairs and peered down into the darkness. I wasn’t sure of what to do, honestly. I was hoping I wasn’t being lead into any more booby traps. Doneshius, well Joseph, has tricked me enough times, only to confess his love and adoration for me in the end, after saving my life, after saving the life of our unborn children and giving us a chance to change the course of our lives for the better.

Despite the bad blood between us, but never turning our backs on our thirst for blood outside of that, and in a whole, I really appreciated his selfless act.

And I was surely going to one day tell our children about this moment (assuming we survive the evil forces working against us), a moment that was both memorable and bittersweet, and maybe pleasing to the soul.

If I had two fourths of a brain I’d acknowledge that nothing was pleasing to my soul as long as it resided in Armona’s flesh.

As long as it remained outside my physical, biological body it would never reap any blessings. So that poses a serious question…

Was I truly living? Or was I merely in existence, existing inside a system I didn’t create, but have become an ant to its policies and laws…


I had a decision to make.

Do I return my soul to my own body, and release Armona from the confines of my flesh, or do I continue to become human inside her body, keeping it as my very own?

That wasn’t important at the moment.

Stopping the war was first and top priority.

When I took the first step towards the start of the Grand Stair that led down into the abysmal pit of the open ground two humongous statues of Isis rose on either side of me. Latches grabbed hold of either hook of the foundation of the Grand Stair, and brought it heavenward.

Lace and drapes, in the shape of an enormous arch, decorated the entrance to the open, mysterious ground below and the breathtakingly humongous yet gorgeous dusty marble stairs that penetrated the darkness there within, and I was mesmerized.

The way the fabric danced on the breeze relaxed me. My heart stopped beating the hell outta my chest and I could actually think rationally.

The more I thought about it the more I was ready to put this all behind me.

I wanted to put Chanteuse and Zulu and the memory of the Village of Opus and Mama Resha and Alan Bachmier and the 16 Villagers that defiled Chanteuse and every male villager deflowering me at the hands of Doneshius (Joseph), and the death of my mother behind me.

I wanted to forget about my sins, both outside my body and against my body, my Temple, the true church.

I wanted to forget about Armona and all of the sick things we engaged in behind me. I wanted to forget the betrayal, and my backstabbing ways.

As a human I will no longer have memory of those thoughts.

They will be lost forever.

Tomorrow (literally) couldn’t come fast enough, even though things of this magnitude and coping with it wasn’t going to happen on the cusp of the sunset (overnight).

When I reached the bottom of the dusty stairs a dim-lighted, yet sparkling Grand Antechamber awaited me.

My eyes danced along what seemed hundreds of feet of marble walls with dazzling color extending legions in front of me, the size of two football fields.

My pupils were smart sonsofbitches; they communicated with my corneas and signaled my brain, giving me the knowledge of the walls being four hundred feet upward, but failing to penetrate the threshold of the earth, six feet below the turf the parameter of the Realm ended.

Along the porcelain walls were televisions from every era on earth, old models, floor models, plasmas, big screen TV’s from the 90s, screens from drive-in movies, nine of them, intricately carved into the walls.

In-between the televisions and projection screens were breathtaking 45x40 posters in twenty four karat gold of amazing Icons, one of a kind, can’t be duplicated talent such as:

Ginger Rogers

Fred Astaire

Michael Jackson

Whitney Houston

Jimmy Hendrix

Heath Ledger

And the list goes on and on!

Ah!—There’s Elvis Presley!

In brilliant color those framed, hologram posters were brilliantly designed! Ah! Dashing! Every TV and projection screen was on the news, from hundreds of countries. Different languages flowed into my ears like silly fools pouring a glass of wine into my eyes hoping to find the brand.

The Wolves can’t see you as you saw the posters in hologram form. You only see them because you are not a wolf. If you were you wouldn’t be able to see anything inside The Grand Stair, and the corridors and layers of prestige that lies beneath it’s unapologetic deep…

I paused for a short moment.

Where had that masculine, sweet voice come from?

The words filtered into my ears rather quickly.

I didn’t have time to figure what direction they came from.

Who said those things to me?

Reports on the earth’s catastrophes fell from the lips and the sparkling eyes of the reporters. They were well dressed demons beaming and smiling into a gazillion homes just as it beamed inside this immaculate Chamber, from all nations and creeds.

Many lies were being broadcasted in my eyes and the world at large. Many of those reporters were deliberately misreporting a few major stories dealing with human emotion and natural disasters, but who was I to say anything?

They read from Teleprompters anyway, so those aren’t their thoughts they read.

I tuned it all out, even the commercials filled with sexual content and suggestions, masked as kid friendly TV.

The only thing I was seeing anyway was a mockery of obese Americans, made out to be suggestive fools in the media.

It unnerved me the way the media uses obesity and children to spark a response from the people for ratings, better yet, their agenda was to spark emotion and anger within ye by two passionate topics without a formidable conclusion, but hoping ye do their dirty work by making those that fell from grace live amongst confusion and fear.

TV was a contradiction.

They say anything is possible, but you’re arrested for stepping outside of set boundaries within county ordinances.

Fasting has become an option, since my thirst for blood wasn’t as strong as it was.

It doesn’t call to me like it used to, considering I was over half human at this point, the promise of a bright tomorrow as promising as ever in my eyes.

Without him knowing, or maybe he did (he was a sharp specimen, and an incredible lover) Doneshius actually saved my life because he changed the direction of it.

Even when we made love in the rainbow, after his proposition, a proposition I took with sound heart, soul and mind, even though my pregnant soul was laying at my side, reminding me of who I was, and how I will look if I don’t remain true to myself.

Even though the devil, or his informant, minion, foot dragon, whatever ye wanna call it, tricked me into choosing sides through the veil of the proposition, the mustard seed of faith within redirected those plans into something beautiful and possibly fulfilling.

And I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity!

So maybe I should fast after all.

Teach myself a different type of discipline.

Who knows, I might like or love the change. Food doesn’t seem to be good for ye anyway, too much of a good thing eventually destroys thy body.

Doctors and TV shows encourage ye to eat of them, good foods, but instead of eating in moderation.

Eye popping fast food commercials entices ye to that loaded, 800 calorie burger.

It was something ye should live without.

But the neddeth for thy last dollar, Dollar Menus, art a corporation’s only objective for having ye standing on their checkered floors inside successful fast food joints.

And even when ye eat healthy foods, they aren’t truly good for ye if ye eat more than the recommended portions in a weekly period, and isn’t as healthy as they say it was, but they still urge ye to eat of it.

It causes ye major health problems, but ye still eat of it.

That’s the life I was going back to. I should start learning to fast now.

The more I do, the more I practice it will become a seventh sense eventually.

Why do ye eat of things that causes ye harm?

Companies and corporations know those foods aren’t good for ye, and tobacco wasn’t good for ye, but they still advertise and market those products for thy money. Ye kill yourself just to make them wealthy, and they go on extended vacations laughing about it.

The world is congested, having a sinus fit. Every time mother earth was imitated she flared up and sneezed, because no one realizes that she also lived amongst ye. In fact ye breathe the pulse of her heartbeat symbolized through two body gestures, when ye inhale and exhale.

Both total opposite themselves.

The breath of life polarized.

LLCs I choose to put out of my mind for the time being, and floating along the hall, stopping to admire a few posters (Michael, Jimmy, Elvis, and Phyllis Hyman, Janis Joplin), I had a strong feeling I was on the right track.

Before I could enter a living quarters of sorts, fantastically decorated, I saw the one Icon, the Enigma, the incomparable:

Marilyn Monroe...

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