It has been 5 years since Tazio destroyed our villa...no wait, I always put Tazio in the worst possible light, an old habit I should probably break, now that I'm working for him. He couldn't really help it-- in fact he was dead at the time and the Earth Itself took over to save him. I am still struggling with how I should feel about that son of mine: hate? love? fear? joy? After all he IS The Antichrist and I am responsible for his having ever been born.
And now, after unsuccessfully trying to murder him all throughout his childhood, I find myself employed by the very company he and Jytte have created: dellaTerra Corporation, administering the inventions my genius son has conceptualized, devices and techniques supposedly changing the world for the better. It has not been easy for me to accept that the works of the Antichrist are actually beneficial to mankind, that there is not some kind of Satanic bargain attached to those wonders, designed to corrupt every human soul. But they seem to be clean. Personally, of course, that evokes an embarrassment for me: was I wrong about the need to kill him for all those years?
I suppose I do have the excuse of having been insane. But now, after having been a homicidally mad nun for so many years, I am once again a functioning member of society: I have a job. A good job, high-powered and well-paid, status--all those things an ex-nun should probably never aspire to. But in fact I love my job, believe in it, it's so ME! At first I thought Jytte--who is now CEO of dTCorp--was just trying to give me something to do (where do we stash Tazio's crazy mother?), I was content just being grandma-nanny to Our Child.
dTCorp (the dellaTerra Corporation) has evolved from Tazio's little web-site and a telephone to becoming a major contender in high-tech big business, enormous amounts of money are flowing through, but profit is not our bottom line: changing the world is. We give a lot of money away to help people around the world, we support charities, finance our own projects in third-world nations. We are quite generous.
But we are not stupid. Big money generates big greed, corruption is the biggest problem a charity has to deal with. Dictators, generalissimos, sheiks, lawyers, there are many who assume that they have the right to steal any money moving past them on its way to poorer people somewhere. My job is to control where the money goes, who gets it, and who does not. I do this personally, travel to various countries, make inspections, and interfere when necessary. Sometimes there can be trouble, unfine mafioso methods, threats and violence. That's when I really love doing this job!
Those men usually see me as some dignified young (hah!) lady alone in their country, sent by a rich little company but basically helpless against their systems. They have no idea that I am a superhuman Angel, a witch, an Avatar, or what a mean bitch I can be if I get irritated (just ask Tazio). They are often quite surprised when they discover what trouble they are in.
dTCorp was trying to establish a clean water project in Somalia. We knew that corruption was going to be a problem; in fact, we deliberately chose a town where it would provoke exactly that, allowing us to establish that foreign aid from dTCorp was not to be stolen.
The Port of Eyl was also in the territory of Puntland, from where Somali pirates sail out to hijack ships and where several groups of hostages were evidently being held prisoner. I was quite looking forward to meddling.
There was also a mystic element to my mission: as a witch/angel of our coven I was to investigate the advent of some unnatural influence causing the Somali piracy to be such a consistently large-scale problem. We knew it was not the Dark Templars doing their usual evil tricks, but some sort of demonic activity was suspected.
I flew into Basso, capital of the Bari Region, a fairly large town on the northern coast. Some dignitaries from the local Chamber of Commerce met me at the airport. It was clear right away that they smelled a large amount of charity money and wanted their share. An entire caravan was being assembled to drive me to Eyl; five vehicles, ten drivers, armed guards to ensure my safety. All expenses to be paid by dTCorp's fresh water fund, of course.
I politely told them, "Thank you, but I have already made arrangements for transportation." Indeed I had, a rented Land Rover, I wished to travel alone for several reasons. This did not please them and some of them began to warn me and belittle my intelligence. Especially since I dared to go about wearing "nothing but" a t-shirt and shorts in a land where rape was so common, hinting that they might just offer me a demonstration. To them I said, "Enough," and they shut up. Standard Avatar psychic domination.
To be fair, their warnings were valid enough, Somalia is a dangerous country, and as far as they knew I was a normal businesswoman. Foreigners are often subject to kidnappings and robberies, street gangs break into moving cars at intersections, shootings and bombings are common, etc. It's all out of control. I must have seemed quite arrogant to them.
I wandered around the town that evening, to get a feel for the culture, ate a meal in a rather common restaurant, avoiding tourist hotels and foreigner bars. Practicing the local language, by midnight I was fluent and feeling a little bit of a buzz from drinking beers in the local pubs. One advantage of being an Avatar is that I don't get sick from germs and viruses. Another is that when a group of aggressive men surrounded me I simply told them to leave and they did. I didn't have a hotel room, so I let a handsome man take me home. I rather enjoyed my one evening in Basso.
Early next morning I picked up my rented Land Rover and started driving south.
JOURNEY TO EYL
I had studied maps and Google Earth, read articles about the area, so I knew the way. I had a GPS satellite telephone if I got lost, but I barely used it, tending to trust my own instincts. Sounds like a good way to get into trouble, I know, woman alone in the desert. Hey, I'm Mariangela, the mad nun, always been crazy.
It was supposed to be an 8-hour drive (446 km) if no problems came up, but I was planning on making some stops along the way. However, I hadn't actually planned on being captured by shiftas, although I knew it was a probability. About 100 kms out of Basso, a hilly plain, 12 burnoosed men with modern rifles rode up on horseback and surrounded me, shooting into the air. I decided to talk with them before they shot my tires.
It was good talking to them, I learned a lot about local wars and tribal conflicts, which seemed to be the only things going on. The infamous Somali pirates were a nautical variation of those shiftas, robber bands that considered it their right to capture and steal because they had nothing better to do. I commanded them to let me go and of course they did, so I did not have to physically harm any of them.
Just before sunset I arrived at the town of Qardho View, the halfway point, where I bought a meal of goat meat fried in ghee, rice & banana, then continued on into the night. Two cars began following me at a distance, so I stopped the Land Rover, got out and waited for them to catch up. Suspecting a trap, they stopped at a distance, so I went to them. It was dark, they didn't see me coming. I only had to get physical with one man who tried to shoot me: I stared him down to make him miss every shot as I approached, then tossed him 30 meters. I was careful not to hurt him, but that scared the rest of them off anyway and they drove back into town.
I drove on, until the waxing crescent moon came up. The desert was so beautiful in the moonlight that I had to stop and simply be there.
The moon always makes me think of the Ulfæ, whom I still love dearly although we are not together any more (he/she's being held "guest" in a secret underground military laboratory somewhere in the middle of the USA). I knew that she would be approaching her angelic phase by now, no longer a mere woman, not yet a goddess. I loved the Ulfæ as both woman and man, but I had especially enjoyed making love with him under the waning gibbous moon while he was "almost normal" (for an Avatar) --which is probably why I went home with a strange mortal man the night before.
I have never had an actual love life. And my earlier sex-life had been nothing but traumatic: virgin nun until raped, then sex-slave to Theron for 3½ years. I'd felt something like love for the Ulfæ (and strangely enough, for evil Anton Artemis), but Theron's ferocious jealousy had kept all other males at bay. Even after Theron was gone it took years for me to accept Ulfo as my lover, although it was first as Ulfa that she taught me the pleasures of sex. But of course a relationship with a lover who constantly changes from male to female, good to evil, could never be considered ideal.
For the last few years I have dabbled in one-night stands (once with my own father, the Greek God Poseidonus) and, in a witchcrafts-training program for our Coven, served a spell as whore in the House of Angels to hone my erotic powers. All that would sound so morally dubious to the nun I had once been, but now I feel free at last. And ready for a genuine love life someday, with... whomsoever it may be.
I may have slept a little, although I wasn't tired, it was just so peaceful.
I drove on to Eyl next day, arriving mid-morning. There was a minor incident with a small group of mercenaries who were interested in taking a dTCorp representative hostage. They knew a lone woman was coming, informed by someone in Basso, and were waiting on the road outside of town. I drove right into their trap, thrashed them thoroughly, and drove the rest of the way into town without incident.
Eyl was a flat unlovely town with only a few shrubs for foliation, located in a semi-arid wasteland, population 21 thousand. There were few buildings over one story tall, nothing fancy anywhere, all spread out haphazardly. A few shiny new cars and pickups were the only clues that this was a pirate's lair, although the port itself was only a few km away.
The dTCorp contact person for the fresh water project in Eyl was a German nun at the Catholic Mission. Her name was Sister Natalia.
I recognized her: we had been nuns together on Cyprus 20 years before on another humanitarian mission, but I said nothing to cause her to recognize me, introducing myself as Ms Vittorina from dTCorp. Actually, she still looked surprisingly young at 40+ and quite pretty when she smiled, but I knew that I still looked the same age as I had all those years ago, which I had no interest in explaining.
The Mission of Santa Lucia was small, only three nuns running a local clinic concerned mostly with women giving childbirth. That seemed paradoxical to me, but I had once been a nun myself and understood that one simply obeyed the directives of the church.
"God bless dellaTerra Corporation," Sister Natalia said to me, "there are so few charity organizations that will invest here because of the piracy and the corruption."
"Has the money been arriving as it should?" I asked.
"Some of it, but we also lose a lot to the city council's special charity tax."
"I'll have a word with them," I promised.
"Yes, well, good luck. They are quite greedy. Although you do look capable of..." She was appraising my authority to convince greedy men to surrender money, and she seemed to recognize something else. "...hmmm, you look so familiar. You were also ordained once upon a time, nicht wahr?"
"Ja, schuldig," I admitted, "and I still wear black a lot."
"Oh, but what you do now-- facilitating dellaTerra Corp's various benefits --might be a greater Good Work than the church has to offer. I've heard nothing but good things about that company-- those world-changing inventions, the public contributions. Have you ever met Tazio, the young genius who started it all?"
"Yes, I have," I said casually, but did not mention that he was my son, not interested in that conversation either.
But she surprised me and announced, "So have I. Almost five years ago. I was on a sabbatical in Rome and just happened to walk past the Spanish Steps..."
"Oh no..." I said, knowing.
"Oh? Then you've heard the stories about him? Well, I was going to gloss over the intimate parts, but I guess you know what happened. It happened to a LOT of girls that month. It's just that I was a nun."
"It must have been shameful for you to have been a victim of his Lust."
"Are you kidding? It was a revelation! I'd been a virgin, having given myself to God very young. And yet I'd always secretly lusted for men, but not after that. Because God...well, A god...had finally allowed me a more divine bliss than any other man could have ever given me. It was a religious experience."
I did speak with the city council and arranged that they would desist stealing money intended for the water project, explaining that there would be more money in general due to better living conditions. One of them tried to argue--actually he called in some soldiers to brutalize me-- but we ended up in perfect agreement anyway.
I spent a day in town taking care of business, which included a trip with Sister Natalia out to a refugee camp, overfilled with starving people and sick children. They had fled from Shiftas on one of their traditional robbing and killing sprees. Fortunately, dTCorp was delivering food and medical supplies upon my arrival.
The Shiftas were still out there, somewhere over the horizon, and would be back. I intended to be in their way next time. I was planning to give them a good scolding.
I spent most of a day with Sister Natalia. I liked her, she was good company and quite energetic, more than the other two nuns who were simply too religious for my taste. I'd had enough of religious dogma back when I was a nun.
It was awkward that I'd glossed over my introductions to her, not mentioning my first name, but she couldn't help but learn it from the documents we were presenting. After that she was often studying my face and finally she had to ask: "Sister Mariangela, it IS you, isn't it?"
I gave up my secret; I wasn't about to lie to her. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice," I admitted with a little grin.
Back when Sister Natalia and I had last been together I had been considered a freak of nature by the other nuns-- in fact, there had been those who considered accusing me of being a witch. This was years before I actually became one. Everyone knew I was about 50 years old although I appeared to be in my 20's, and whenever we had been around any men there had often been embarrassing sexually oriented attentions to me. I couldn't help it, but the other women resented it anyway, as if they had been jealous schoolgirls. Eventually I discovered that many of those nuns lusted for me as well. I never felt I had any friends among my "sisters".
"I think I understand why," Sister Natalia said, "many of our sisters were afraid of you. Me as well. You looked too young to be real-- you still do, except for those streaks of white in your hair --and there was that incident with the Turkish soldiers..."
A group of Turkish soldiers had stopped our bus and decided that raping of nuns was their right, grabbing us and ripping off our convent habits. Being an angry Avatar, I beat them senseless until our Mother Superior was begging me not to kill them. I was myself shocked at the violence I was capable of, considering how much stronger I was than any mortal man. I knew that those men couldn't help it: they had only reacted as all men did to my involuntary sexual magnetism, so it was to my shame that the other women should suffer for being with me.
"Oh that time," I said, "perhaps I overreacted..."
"Well, we didn't get raped. And they deserved it," Sister Natalia insisted. "I certainly appreciated being saved, although most of our fellow sisters misunderstood."
"And you did understand?"
"Not at the time, but later on I discovered the existence of Avatars. You are one, right? I mean, I've SEEN how strong you are, and you must be at least 70 by now but don't appear to have aged at all."
"Ah, you KNOW about Avatars?"
She nodded, informing me that "Tazio told me. He was an Avatar too, a god incarnate."
"Oh, yes, that he is." I did not wish to tell her which god: Satan Himself. "I'm interested; he was usually quite secretive about all that: why did he happen to tell you he was an Avatar?"
"Because I was a nun-- he said his mother had once been a nun."
"What else did he say about her?"
"That she had hated him and had tried to kill him many times, but that their relationship had been getting better just before she died-- supposedly-- in some catastrophe along with his entire family. He was quite emotional about it, poor kid, I had to comfort him."
"With sex?" I asked, half-indignantly.
"Of course, it seemed to be what he needed most at that time. I was certainly glad to give him that. I also ended up looking 10 years younger, almost like you."
I dreaded that she would ask the next logical question, about exactly what my relationship with Tazio was, but she jumped past that one as if she knew better than to try, asking instead: "Sister Mariangela, you are connected with dTCorp; do they know where Tazio is now?"
"Tazio is traveling around the world, no one knows exactly where he is as present."
"Well, off exploring I suppose, he was an adventurous young man. Say, just how old is he, anyway?"
"He was 12 years old back when you..." I stopped, having no wish to accuse her of child molestation, she could no more have resisted the power of His Lust than I could Theron's, "he's about 17 now."
Sister Natalia gasped, "SO young? Oh, my...perhaps I HAVE sinned..."
"Gods incarnate," I reminded her, "forget about having free will around one of them."
Until the last five years, I could say that I have lived an unendurably tragic and miserable life, destiny having been unreasonably cruel to poor little me: born in a Nazi concentration camp, mother dead, very bleak beginning. Oh, there were some few kind years of childhood with adoptive parents in Italy, at least until The Lust afflicted me (and every man around me including my foster father) so that I had to become a nun. Only then to be kidnapped and raped by 400 men in a Satanic ritual, impregnating me with the Antichrist, leading to the 3½ years of shame and disgrace as sex-slave to my monster son Theron, who finally exploded to become the oh-so-good Tazio, whom I remorselessly strove to destroy because he was to be The Antichrist. Evil Theron I had loved passionately, good Tazio I hated ruthlessly, couldn't help it either way. Their energy-auras drove me insane, I'd like to believe. Anyway, life had been unfair to me.
But during my service as a nun I saw how women were living in undeveloped countries-- such as Somalia-- and realized that my entire life had been one of privilege and luxury. Simply because I was an Avatar: essentially immortal and indestructible. These people were being physically destroyed by hunger, disease, and--worst of all--the inhumane cruelty of their fellow men. At over 70 years I was still young and healthy, these women were already old as teen-agers. If any man attacked me I could easily overpower him, these women had to suffer indignity and defeat every time.
So now I go on missions like this, to help who I can, to punish who I should. Rather as Tazio has been doing for the last few years, I suppose: a lone demigod drifting into town, pulling off miracles, righting wrongs, then disappearing into the sunset. Yet our motivations were quite different--having become neutered Tazio can barely muster up enough emotion to convince himself to take action, while I react to everything overemotionally, almost a berserker.
Perhaps I have judged Tazio's current lack of emotion as a waste of his potential, and yet it was I who insisted that His Lust was dangerous, so he got rid of it. Although Cindy assures me that he was himself overwhelmed by The Lust at 12 years old-- creatively crippled by the demands of his sexuality --and that his becoming a neuter had nothing to do with me. But still I wonder.
I found myself remembering being Tazio's mother-- how much I hated him, how cruel I was to him, how many times I tried to murder him. He was really such a nice little boy, innocent of Theron's crimes-- and yet not-- it was a paradox.
Theron had destroyed himself because angelic-phased Ulfa had enlightened him as to how evil he was, only his tail remaining. Tazio had grown from that tail, into a perfect 4-year-old child. with no memories of having raped me a thousand times, or of all the many cruelties Theron had committed to me and so many others. But I remembered everything and that serpentine tail was proof that he was Theron reborn, and that it was my duty to kill him because he was still destined to become The Antichrist.
Now I find myself regretting how I had treated him-- it was not guilt, for I had no control over the rage he engendered in me --just sometimes wishing we could have been friends, loving mother and happy child. But his very presence drove me insane, his aura HURT me, his energy was poisonous to me. An evil spirit (Satan's, I supposed) possessed me. I HAD to destroy him.
Now, years since I have last seen him, I do feel some sympathy for Tazio-- he DOES seem to be good, he HAS improved the world in many ways, and he has NEVER harmed anyone, just as he promised me as a child. But I do not know what will happen if I meet him again, if I come within range of his very powerful energy field. Perhaps his mere nearness will make me insane all over again, perhaps that is our chemistry. But I hope not.
THE PIRATE PORT
The day after I had established myself in Eyl I drove my Land Rover down to the port. It was not far, but there were control points and armed guards stationed to keep foreigners and strangers away. The men were not government employees, so I assumed they worked with the pirates. They were no problem, I talked them all into letting me pass, but it took a while.
The port town was smaller, less haphazardly arranged, and full of pirates. I projected a mental image of myself as a man and managed to wander around unnoticed. I recognized all the long white speedboats pulled up on the beach from sessions with satellite photos and Google Earth, these were the boats pirates used to make their raids, most of them in good condition. Financing from Yemen and Saudi Arabia buys good equipment.
But all of that was common Internet-knowledge, I was here after the secret of whatever was inspiring all these men to such aggressive piracy. Our Coven had been aware of it for a while, a concentrated force of evil controlling events in the Indian Ocean, evidently located near Eyl. We did not know who or what it was, but some entity was definitely emanating powerful waves of psychic domination. And now that I was there, I could clearly sense a malignant presence somewhere nearby, quickly becoming aware that it could sense me too.
So I wandered about the port town, following that sensation of evil: an electric-ozone smell-taste; past the noisy bars catering to the younger pirates, into the back streets which would simply be too dangerous for anyone but an Avatar. I had no idea where I was going, just following a feeling, a signal somewhere ahead of me, not far off now. But it was elusive, confounding me, turning me around again and again. I spent all day at it. Night fell.
Eventually I came to an obscure little weather-beaten and semi-ruined hut standing quite alone between the pirate's beach and the outskirts of town.
There was no light inside and it seemed abandoned, but I could sense a pulse of malevolence emanating from within that shabby little shack. The hut was camouflage, whatever inside was bigger than the building: it was enormous and dangerous. It was also hungry.
I stopped advancing, uncertain of my next move. I'd been blithely passing through one of the most dangerous lands in the world without trepidation because I was a superhuman Avatar, but suddenly I got the feeling that I might not be especially superior to whatever was hiding in that hut. Something definitely demonic, at this range I could tell, having intimately known several demons and the auras they exude.
The aura of this one seemed familiar, as if we had met before, although I could not identify it. Perhaps in an earlier incarnation. I sensed its yearning to be cruel, eagerness to do harm. For the first time in years I felt afraid. But I was also enticed, eager to be challenged. It was thrilling, in a perverted way, but mostly I knew that it was evil and that I would have to make a stand against it. If I could.
I stopped in the dirt street, not 30 meters away from the hut, rocking on my heels, deciding if I dared take the next step or not and in which direction. It wasn't too late; I could still back away and avoid a confrontation. But I had already decided to enter the hut, being ready for some kind of fight. I just had to work up the nerve.
I prayed for guidance. That is, I opened my soul to the Angelic Network, seeking backup from the girls. It had been arranged that Our Coven would be on the alert, knowing that I was seeking this very source of evil that was driving the Somali Pirates to be so diligent at their skullduggery.
Then I heard many men running in my direction, feet pounding closer, muted voices whispering commands, the rattling of weapons. Those very Somali Pirates. The hut had activated its own backup: armed men would be answering the call. I did not have time to deliberate the situation, stepped forward, the flimsy door opened for me before I ever touched it and I entered the hut. The swarm of men arrived, but did not-- perhaps could not --follow me inside. The door closed behind me with a slam.
It was absolutely dark in there, I could see nothing, not even with Avatar eyes; there was only negative light. But I could sense a red-hot furnace of evil energy in the center and that it was ready for me.
It spoke: in Italian, a young male voice, sounding very much like Theron had as the ersatz adult he had become at the end. This thing knew how to twist my emotions.
"Bouna sera, angel, welcome to my boudoir. I've been looking forward to having you here." Double-entendres, sexual in nature, this demon was perverse, as usual.
"You're the demon causing the local men to become pirates," I announced, "I'm here to stop you and send you back to Hell."
"Am I? Are you? You don't know who or what I am or how much power I command."
"You're a rooted demon, your power is limited to this one spot on Earthlevel, and cannot be manifest in light. You are therefore easily exorcised. Oh, and your most infernal name is Xablksga."
"How can you know this?"
"I'm not alone here, but am even now in touch with my Angelic Network, I know what they know."
"Now know this: I am indeed but a local demon, however you are standing in the epicenter of MY power and influence. So actually, except for me-- you ARE alone."
It was true: my contact with the angelic network shorted out even as it spoke. The darkness was absolute once again. I became completely disoriented, felt myself falling backwards, or floating in zero-gravity, I couldn't even brace my feet to regain balance. In fact, I seemed to be disembodied, perhaps dead.
"But it would be a waste of such a delicious cunt to leave you all alone," Xablksga's voice the only reality I had, "I shall allow you some company."
I could abruptly hear many male voices outside the hut; the pirates, excited, working up to a frenzy. Inside with me, only the cold voice of the demon.
"I have an army of horny guys gathered just outside, who at my mere suggestion shall rape you into a pulp, angel. Have fun."
The door was abruptly smashed open and they swarmed in, the hut suddenly filled beyond capacity with sweating Somali pirates groping in the dark after me. They were too many to all get to me at once, but some of them caught me and my clothes were ripped away instantly. I couldn't see them but could feel that they were all naked and collectively jabbing hundreds of erect penises at me.
I fought them off, which I was strong enough to do for a while, but they kept coming as if they were a thousand strong, and I was inhibited by my reluctance to maim or kill. I understood that these men were not actually responsible for their actions, but was still unwilling to allow them to rape me. Fighting blind in that unnatural dark, I could only push against a churning wall of hot slippery flesh that closed in ever tighter for what seemed like eternity.
Until a sudden change: the crowding lessened, sounds of violent impact against meat and bone, of splattering and ripping, screams of pain, shrieks of fear, death-gurgles. There was definitely noisy brutal slaughter going on. Something with enormous strength and none of my inhibitions was moving through the crowd, murdering my attackers. Another demon? I wondered.
But I heard his laugh: male, young, enjoying himself, easily overwhelming throngs of mortal men. It had to be an Avatar, his laugh disturbingly familiar, but whom? Then I heard him call out above the cries and wails of the mob he was ruthlessly crippling and killing:
"Hang on Mother; I'm here to save you!"
For a confused instant I thought, "Tazio's here?" But in the same instant realizing that it couldn't be him killing all those men because he never harms anyone. And as I fainted, which is not something I usually do, I heard myself wondering, "Who's Tazio?"
MY SON, THE ANTICHRIST
I seemed to awaken out of a timeless nonexistent state, during which I had forgotten who I was, or had once been. But eventually I began to remember that I was somebody called Mariangela. But here my memories failed me and went in two opposed directions. Because insanity can be confusing, I reasoned.
"Okay Mother, get up, you're all right now. Your hero has rescued you."
My senses returned to me in a flash of freezing terror, emotions out of control. My body was back; I could feel my weight against dead men's bodies sprawled on the floor of the hut, heart beating wildly, lungs gasping for air, cold sweat oozing. Panic. Fear! Lust? Suddenly I wished to be dead, rather than endure what was coming, for I had recognized the voice.
Seventeen years ago I had given birth to a horrible little monster. His psychic domination had made me love him anyway; or perhaps it had only been common mother instinct, I'll never really know. I actually once thought he was cute, fangs and fur and scales and all, the little devil. But it was the power of His Avatar Lust that made me his sex-slave, especially after he physically transformed himself into an adult at the age of 3. After that I no longer thought he was cute, but could not resist his insatiable demands, so we had committed incest incessantly. The shame and disgust of those days had driven me completely insane. But wasn't he gone? And now he was back?
"No! You don't exist!" I insisted, afraid to open my eyes and see that he did. "What are you talking about? I'm right here," Theron said, then commanded me, "look!"
I had to obey, as always. It was still dark, so I had not been unconscious long, but could see by the dim light coming in through the hut's open doorway. I was lying upon a carpet of dead and dismembered men, the hut was stacked deep with them. Only one figure remained standing; a large muscular silhouette in the doorway, tail twitching behind, dimly lit by the glow of Urr that surrounded him.
It could only be Theron, although the sight of him confused me, as if he was not how I remembered him at all: he seemed bigger, older, as if a completely unrecognizable new version of my son. I seemed to recall an oversized head with too-big eyes on a thin body, but this Theron was perfectly proportioned in all ways. It was strange because he'd kept me so close to him almost every night since he'd been born, how could I possibly mistake what he looked like?
Of course it would have been difficult to recognize anyone under that glistening red patina of blood and gore, entrails dangling in his hair, tatters of flesh clinging to his face, pieces of the many corpses he had ripped apart and was now was wading through. He was a gooey mess, but smiling and content.
"That was fun, I love it!" His Urr-glow intensified for a second and all the gore exploded away from him, cleansing himself instantly. I was hit by the spray, but was already so messy it hardly mattered
Now I could see him as I expected to: that beautiful, tall, elegant young man. Gloriously handsome, proud, vain, evil-- that face I've learned to love/hate so intensely over the last seventeen years.
"You're disgusting, Mother--all that blood and guck--maybe I'd better clean you up," stepping towards me and reaching for my arm.
"Oh, no, thank you..." I tried to say, seeing that he was going to use his Urr on me, which always hurt, delivering an intense shock-effect. I tried to avoid his hand, but that was only a feint and his tail swerved around and poked itself right into my sex-- Theron was always fixated on the erotic. His Urr-power made me clean instantly but I had to endure the sensory overload of too much power flooding my body. So I ended my sentence with a scream. Theron laughed, he enjoyed hurting people.
"Hey, let's have sex with Urr," he said, obviously aroused by his little joke, "that's always pretty special."
"It's too special for me, Lord Son, you know it hurts." It was unendurable, every time made me even more insane, I'm sure.
"You'll live, you always do," he was already climbing onto me.
"I thought you were saving me from being raped." I tried reminding him; it might stop him.
"Well, it's not really rape when it's me--because you're Mine." Then he pondered a second before asking: "Why were all those men trying to rape you anyway?" he asked.
"Demon," I explained, pointing to the center of the hut.
"Well, nobody fucks with MY mother," he said, "except me." Turning towards the center, pulling Urr up out of the earth for more power, he called out: "demon, identify yourself."
"It's only me, Wondrous Lord Theron," the demon's voice answered merrily.
Theron chuckled and let the Urr fall away. "Oh, hi, Xablksga. You've ascended from Hell, I see. But hey, why are you hassling my mother?"
"I was merely teasing her a little. You know us demons, Exalted Lord," Xablksga said.
"Yeah, guess I do. Look, I know you're okay, Xablksga-- I'm just a little protective of Mariangela, you know. She's MINE, nobody else's."
"Sure, guy. You're a good son."
"Yeah, well, I try to be."
"I believe you were about to fuck her with your Urr running, Wondrous Lord. I'd love to watch that much power at play. Especially since the rumor is that you, Sumptuous Lord Theron, are currently the greatest cocksman on Earthlevel, especially ever since you withered Grand Master Anton again."
"It's not just a rumor, here, I'll show you."
So he did. I certainly had nothing to say about it. Theron had me in that tiny hut, atop a blood-flooded carpet of dead ripped-apart pirates, it was quite gruesome. And painful, being inside Theron's Urr-aura was torture for me, but I was perhaps the only other person in the world than him who could tolerate it without burning up. Perhaps because we had the same DNA, or because we'd been one entity for 3 days in Hell, then mother and embryo for another 9 months of Earthlevel pregnancy; who knows?
Even "normal" sex with Theron had always been confusing for me-- I loved/loathed him so intensely that I was never sure if I enjoyed it at all, but I always was disgusted with both him and myself, that I am sure of. At least it went quickly: within half a minute we were both spasming in a mutual orgasm. Best/worst sex I've ever had. It was the self-loathing afterward that always lasted longest, alleviated only by the fact that I had absolutely no choice about partaking in it.
Once again I felt disoriented, seeming to hear echoes from another time. As if I had not been his sex-slave for years, the shame did not feel as familiar as it should have. I struggled to recall the order of things: Theron was now a mature young man and had already conquered all the nations on the planet with his earthquake powers, he had revealed himself as The Antichrist 2 years before and was ready to end the world next year...
(but I also had a blurry memory of Theron somehow... perishing? or changing? I seemed to recall that something dramatic had happened back when he was 3½?)
But I could not trust any of my memories enough to believe in them.
When we came out of the hut Theron thanked Xablksga for the hospitality, as if they were old Hell-mates. It was still night and we stood under stars and the crescent moon, which was bright enough for me to see him in all his glory. I think I gasped at his physical beauty. As if I'd never seen him before.
"Oh Theron, My Lord Son," I said to him, "will you please have me some more?" I couldn't help it. As if I was programmed.
"Oh, not now, Mother, control yourself. I need to plunder some of these local girls now. Some of the blackest ones look quite delectable. I certainly had a lot of fun killing their men."
I managed to wrench my eyes from the wonderful glory of Theron to look at the scene around the little hut. I didn't understand why it surprised me, it had to be the same as when I had gone into the hut some minutes before.
A squadron of uniformed Dark Templars stood in rank, ready to serve. Before them, a hundred Somalis on their knees awaiting the mercy of Lord Theron. Women on one side, men on the other, and ten headless bodies sprawled on the dirt before the hut. I almost wondered what had happened to them, then abruptly remembered that Theron always demanded a sacrifice from any town or village he visited, "as a sign of respect for their Lord," he would say.
A barrage of memories was hitting me hard now, a history lesson of the years since Theron had become known to the world as a young genius. His rock/movie-star career, his inventions and economic master strokes, his complete domination of the media industry, his political influence and victorious wars. His reign of Terror, his megalomania out of control-- how he had enslaved all of mankind, how he had caused the entire country of China to sink beneath the sea for the insolence of their leaders.
Still only a teen-ager, Theron was now effectively Master of the World. The Dark Templars were his Gestapo, Anton imprisoned and crippled, withered by Theron's power, the Ulfæ also contained and restrained by his magic. Nowhere on the planet was there any opponent equal to Theron's cerebral powers or physical abilities. Even had there been, Theron was the incarnation of the Earth Itself and could always set a volcano off under his enemies or sink another continent. Everyone feared him. With good reason, he was cruel and unstable, egocentric and vain, greedy and ruthless. Still a child in so many ways, but with virtually unlimited power to get whatever he wanted. The only person whose life was safe in his presence was me, who so often wished to die.
"Ah People of Eyl, you are blessed by my visitation. I enjoyed the generous sacrifices of your men, remember them as martyrs for the glory of Your Very Own Lord Theron. Now, ladies, it's your turn. Take off your clothes and get in line--no crowding, don't worry I'll fuck each of you. Unless you're old and ugly, that is."
SISTER NATALIA AGAIN?
Several rows of Templars back I noticed an middle-aged white woman being possessively restrained by a Templar; she was naked, hair clipped very short. I seemed to recognize her, but couldn't place from where. Theron was busy raping black girls so I was free to approach her.
The Dark Templar had his hand tight on her arm and looked suspiciously at me. "Fuck off, slut... oh, excuse me, Lord Mother, I hadn't recognized..."
"Fuck off yourself," I said, tending to be impolite to Templars, "I wish to speak with her."
"But she is my prize..."
"I'll call My Lord Son, oh Ther..."
His eyes went wide in fear and he backed away, leaving me with the woman. She was miserable, naked, bruised and bloody, as if she had just been raped and beaten.
"Do we know each other?" I asked her.
"I...I'm not sure, you do seem familiar..." then, "oh, but you couldn't be-- Sister Mariangela?"
"Sister...? Oh yes, I was once ordained, long ago."
"But you still look so young! I'm Sister Natalia, we were together on Cyprus many years ago. You once saved us all from being raped by Turkish soldiers."
"Ah yes, now I remember. But I have this feeling I've also met you more recently-- hours ago, in fact."
"Oh I wish you had, maybe you could have saved us again. Although...it looks like you've been raped too?"
"Oh, yes, repeatedly and probably again soon," I admitted.
"You seem to be taking it rather well."
"Oh, I'm sort of used to it...I think, I feel somewhat disoriented."
"I feel..." she paused to sob, "...thoroughly destroyed," face crumpled in despair. Then rigid with rage, "These men are monsters. And especially HIM!" She pointed at Theron, who was busy raping his next cluster of black girls.
"Yes, he's a monster all right," I had to agree, feeling a terrible reponsibility for having brought him into this world. "I should murder him... but can't."
"Why not? I believe I could-- God forgive me for saying that." She was a nun, after all.
"He's unkillable..." I said with great authority, as if I had tried many times, although any specific memory of ever so doing eluded me, "...no one can get past his psychic domination or telekinetic defenses anyway."
A large helicopter arrived overhead, noisily chop-chopping and blazing with lights. I could see the dTCorp logo...no wait, it read LTCon, what was I thinking? Lord Theron Consolidations, of course, not dTCorp...whatever that might be.
Sister Natalia sent a curse up at the hovering machine, "Disciples of the devil! That wicked, evil agency is ruining the world!"
"Why do you say that?" My memories were unclear, I vaguely recalled dTCorp--oops, I mean LTCon--as being altruistic.
"How can you not know? They have poisoned the oceans and destroyed the very last rain forest by strip-mining everything. And just recently they used nuclear weapons in Germany! Berlin--mein heimatstadt--is gone!" She was weeping now, unable to say more.
Suddenly I felt reality shift, as if an electric current had hit my brain, and was compelled to turn my head to gaze in wonder at My Lord Son Theron, who was coming toward me, done with his black girls. I felt a wave of adoration for him, even as another part of my mind counted the six dead girls he had discarded. A twinge of disapproval almost occurred to me, but was censored away.
Theron was still excited and having fun, he tossed himself upon me and gave me a quick fuck. Such a horny rascal/I had to resist an urge to retch.
He looked over at Sister Natalia as if considering having her too, then decided she looked too sad to bother with. Although he did ask her: "Didn't I already have you yesterday?"
Sister Natalia was afraid, but simply had to answer. "Indeed, Lord, at the mission. Along with all my colleagues."
"Ah yes. That was fun, especially the young ones."
"You mean the children, Lord?"
Sensing a tone of disapproval, Theron now regarded her less casually. "And did you enjoy my attentions to your own body?"
"I was a virgin, Lord, it was painful..."
Theron spoke strictly, "Well, you're not a virgin any more, let's see if I can make it better." He rolled over atop her and began to copulate.
Sister Natalia actually tried to fight him off, saying, "You have no right...you fucking evil shit, may God strike you down, get off me, get OHH..!" She died instantly as Theron thrust himself inside her with all his Avatar strength, shattering her skeleton and rupturing internal organs.
Then he laughed, "I love it!" he said, quite satisfied with his latest trick. Or almost satisfied, since he hadn't had time to ejaculate before poor Sister Natalia had crumpled, so he pinned me down and had me again, just a one-two-jerk & done, so quick that I did not have time to react or resist. Then he was satisfied, for the moment anyway. He left me there, beside the corpse of a sister.
I was devastated, thinking I should have rescued Sister Natalia again, but now she was dead because I had not acted fast enough. I couldn't even rescue myself. I felt such shame.
Sister Natalia had inspired me, she had resisted! And died, but it would be worth it. To be gone from Theron, free of his Evil Lust. Besides...I fumbled with a memory, ah yes: besides, I was an Avatar. Theron could not kill me as easily as a human.
But my responses were always sluggish within the field of his telepathic domination and before I could enact upon any impulse Theron had already moved on, back in action, pulling on the clothing handed to him by a Templar lackey.
"Now we'd better get going," he announced, "I want to do Mogadishu today. It's supposed to be the most dangerous city in the world, so I'm looking forward to showing them dangerous."
The great helicopter landed and the Templars filed in, several Somali women were also pushed inside to be throwaway sex-slaves as Theron called out orders for their evacuation from Eyl.
I mourned over Sister Natalia's broken body, feeling sad for her and sorry for myself. And confused: if I was an Avatar, how could I be such a helpless slave to my evil son? How could that be?
"Mother, come on! We're leaving!"
Somehow I knew that I couldn't leave, that if I did I would be trapped with Theron forever. I would be insane again. There was something holding me back, something I needed to remember...
I tried to hesitate but Theron had no patience for me, he grabbed my wrist and jerked me towards the helicopter. I tried to resist but... no wait, I decided to resist, actually pulling back for the first time in years, refusing to move.
Theron was surprised. No one resists HIM. No one can, but I was doing so, reminding myself that I was an avatar with almost as much physical strength as he...
He slapped me, then swung me around and threw me into the helicopter, to be helplessly dashed against the far inside wall. He sprang to me in one soaring step, frowning and saying, "What's wrong with you, Mother? You know I can't help getting cross if you defy me. I'd kill anyone else."
A Dark Templar called urgently from the communications desk: "Lord Theron, we are under attack!"
Theron's scowl became a happy smile, he turned from me. "Really? Someone actually dares? What fun, I love it!"
"Incoming nuclear missile..."
"Yeah, yeah, I got it..." Theron's eyes were closed, his smile broad as he read all telecommunication frequencies inside his head, "...100 megaton, launched from US aircraft carrier Defiant out in the Indian Ocean. Oh, they must really want to hurt me. I'm touched."
"My Lord, Impact in..."
"Impact cancelled," Theron assured his agents with a flourish, waving his hands like a musical conductor, "I've already sent it back to where it came from. New impact time, 1½ minutes."
"Calculations confirmed, Lord Theron. Missile has turned, is receding."
"It's a wonder they still keep trying, one would think the world had learned by now. I may have to teach them another lesson."
"The Americans are furious because you erupted a volcano in Washington DC last week and destroyed the White House" I informed him, "you might have gone too far that time, Theron." He suddenly loomed tight in to my face, "You mean MY LORD SON." He was frowning, ready to slap me again, but relented and looked concerned, "Mother, why are you being difficult, lecturing me? Besides, I LOVE going too far, you know that!"
I couldn't help it; I cowered. "Apologies, My Lord Son, ever since that demon in the hut..."
He reacted sympathetically, now that I had quailed before his power, "Ah, yes. Perhaps I should have punished old Xablksga after all, although...ahhh," he smiled and turned to the comms deck, "did you register that?"
"It's coming in now, Lord: thermonuclear explosion in the Indian Ocean. The USS Defiant is...gone."
A cheer went up from the ranks of Dark Templars, "You've done it again, Lord!" They sounded proud, but also relieved.
"John 13:4--Who is able to make war with The Beast?" Theron reminded them, bowing, prancing, showing off, pleased with himself once again.
But not quite content. He never was. He turned his head to the direction of America, on the other side of the planet. "Well, I suppose I'd better teach them that lesson." He pondered for a moment, then smiled again.
"There's a great big fat super volcano cooking under Yellowstone... they've been worrying about that for years. I could set it off; that would serve the Americans right for attacking me."
I'd heard about that: the largest volcano in the world, which could blow up most of North/Middle USA and generate so much ash that... "But My Lord Son, that would result in a Global Winter, everyone might die!"
"Nawww, well maybe. But then the Apocalypse is supposed to happen in about a year, so I'll be destroying the whole planet at that time anyway."
"You're still planning on that?" I asked, yet hoping he would drop the idea.
"Hey, it's my destiny. Bring on Immanuel, Christ versus Antichrist, I'm thinking I could win the battle by blowing the planet apart, and a super volcano would be good way to practice doing that. So I think I'll give it a try. Right now."
Theron commanded his Templars to cancel take-off for a while and stepped outside the helicopter to find himself a good solid place to stand for maximum contact with the URR.
"If you want to watch me blow away half of the fucking USA," he briskly called out to the crowd, "you're welcome to follow me. Come on, everybody!" Theron always LOVED an audience.
Off they went, a hundred people catering to the whims of Lord Theron. No one noticed that I remained behind, beside the corpse of my almost-friend, head bowed, posture crumpled. I'm sure I looked busy surrendering.
But I was busy realizing, once again, that I had to end him before he ended the world. He was my responsibility and I was also the only avatar who could get close enough to do it. But how? Physical attack did not work. Nor psychic, at least not anything I could muster. How, how, how?
The sight of poor Sister Natalia reminded me of having once been religious myself, when the solution to every problem was prayer. Instinctively I tried to pray, fumbling with the old words and ritualistic nonsense, knowing that I was not doing it right. Begging for power was futile, I sensed that, I had to connect with power some more assertive way...and suddenly there it was.
Everything went white. I was somewhere else. It felt familiar, but I had no memory of a white somewhere--until the astral voices began and I began to remember them. Angels. Like myself. I was online in the astral network once again.
"I need help," I transmitted.
A thousand astral voices responded, "You certainly do, Mariangela. Here."
My training came back to me and I recognized that I'd been infected by a demon's curse. Although I had no clue as to what the curse might be.
"It has to be Xablksga," the angelic voices told me, "you were just about to take him on last time we were in contact with you. Looks like he won."
"Xablksga's not my problem just now," I insisted, "Theron's about to cause a major volcanic eruption under Yellowstone..."
"Theron?" many voices asked, all surprised, "but Theron no longer exists."
"He became Tazio," someone mentioned.
"Who's Tazio?" I asked, echoing a thought from earlier.
"Well, girls, I think we all know what that curse was about, don't we?"
They explained that I was hallucinating a fictional reality, that actually Theron had perished almost 12 years ago and his tail had somehow grown a new boy named Tazio. Also that I was an adept witch in a Coven of Angels. It all seemed too absurd, and I had no memory of any of this, had already accepted that I was insane (again) so how could I be certain which version of reality was the fiction?
The whiteness faded away, it was still early in the day. Sister Natalia's broken cadaver still lay beside where I sat in the dirt, a sad reminder of my failure. Six Somali women also lay dead in a pile not far from me. Everyone was gone, off to watch Theron destroy most of North America just for fun. At a slight distance, I could see the shabby little hut standing between me and the sea, innumerable bodies of pirates scattered like leaves around it.
According to the Angels, my actual conflict was not with Theron but the demon Xablksga, which should mean that I could save the world from Theron's plans by ignoring him and returning to the little hut and defeating what was in there instead. Theron might be impossible to overpower, but a simple local demon should be...
Despair attacked my mind: I knew I could only fail. Realized that even a simple demon was too much for me: my personal pride was gone, my angelic shame was overwhelming, my Avatar powers were worthless. I wept in frustration, already defeated. I rued the arrogance I had felt the day before, coming here to Eyl unescorted, ignoring the warnings of experienced men who...
This felt all wrong. Mariangela doesn't think this way, these are not my thoughts. Someone else is putting them in my head, manipulating me.
I stood up, still undecided which way to go but intending to act before it was too late: just do something. If I don't know WHAT to do, stop thinking, just DO. Follow my heart.
And Theron had my heart, that cruel shit. To annihilate that evil bastard was what I had always REALLY WANTED to do. I didn't care about Xablksga, no emotional investment there. Besides, I could always do the demon afterwards.
I followed the trail of Templars and Somalis who had followed Theron and soon came upon the crowd. A ring of at least a hundred people surrounded him to obediently watch his performance. Theron had his audience-- and a film crew, Templars skilled at media and PR --not because he needed to sway public opinion, but because he liked to see himself on TV. He was especially fond of world-wide coverage.
He had found the best local point of URR-flow, a spot off the road where the dirt was thin and massive granite formations ran beneath it, a conduit down to the core of the planet. He had used his earth-moving power to roll tons of dirt away so that he could come in direct contact with the granite for a perfect connection to the Urr.
Theron sat in a lotus pose on the earth, naked for best contact, his tail stabbing into the ground. For those of us with avatar vision, we could see the shimmering swirl of URR surrounding him, permeating him with the life force of the Earth Itself. He was already going into a trance, becoming one with the earth. I'd seen him do that many times, and it was frightening every time: earthquakes happened, usually minor, some major. Theron didn't have his URR quite under control yet, and now he was gorging himself with it once again.
I suddenly recalled Ulfo telling some young boy how to control that same URR: "you have an affinity with the earth, it protects you but can also be very dangerous for others around you. You can inadvertently cause earthquakes and volcanoes. If that happens, remember the 3 principles of power: Control, Create, Realize..." It was a confusing memory, because the boy was not Theron, although he resembled him and had a tail as well.
The earth-thumps were beginning; subtle and far-off at first, coming nearer, getting louder. Theron himself was silent, now deeply entranced and out of reach, as his planetary self was waking up. I had to do something RIGHT NOW if it was to do any good, blowing up North America was definitely "going too far".
Having no plan, only acting upon instinct, I made my way through the crowd. No one tried to stop the Lord Mother, not even his Templar guards, knowing that he was absolutely indestructible at this moment. I passed directly up to Theron and put my hands on his shoulders.
I felt the Urr as a mighty shock of energy stinging in my fingers, then throughout my entire body. It was quite painful but I endured it. I could sense all the heat and mass of the entire planet Earth coursing through Theron, he felt like electrified stone, his skin as hard as diamond. Nothing could penetrate his presence, but I could become part of it because we had been one spirit before he was born. The URR accepted me and the power of it flowed through me too, as long as I was in contact with Theron. Physically and spiritually, our minds merged into one thinker.
I too could sense the insides of the planet Earth, beneath the shifting strata, down into the magma core, on through to the other side of the world, then up to the impossibly vast cauldron of hot lava bubbling under Yellowstone National Park in North America. It was absolutely fascinating; all that destruction ready to blow, I yearned and burned to let it loose. It could be so spectacular! And all the deaths, what fun! Followed by years of suffering for millions of people as the nuclear winter destroyed crops, suffocating ash polluting the entire atmosphere, I love it!
Actually, that was Theron's desire we were sharing. I had to divert that yearning, to sway him from his plan. But Theron was a creature controlled by his own untamed desires and difficult to sway.
It suddenly occurred to me that I knew his only weakness-- I had always known it.
I was almost certain that whatever I had to do to kill Theron would be so dangerous that I would also perish, but so be it, he had to die.
I opened my eyes, Theron still before me, my hands still upon his shoulders, him hard as stone and sleek as glass. Even then I could not help feeling a twinge of all-consuming mother love for my beautiful godlike son. But I was not there as a mother, instead as an angel of death.
I hit him in the solar plexus, empowered with the colossal strength the Urr had charged me with, but he never noticed. I tried to strangle him but could not dent his throat. If only I had a weapon... I stomped down into the granite beneath us and shattered it with my Urr-charged foot, chips flew, I grabbed a dagger-shaped shard and stabbed it at Theron's forehead. It pulverized in a spray of sparks.
But he did notice that my naked groin was up against his face during my struggles.
"Huh?" He was groggy, high. "Not now, Mother...I'm almost there."
It was the only thing that got through to him, so I followed suit: "Yes, now Theron!" I pressed my sex to his mouth. He was almost preoccupied enough to resist my advances, even tried to turn his head away.
"Other side of the world and I'm almost there," he explained, "oh wow, it's really a LOT of magma, it's COLLOSSAL. Exploding this is going to be great..."
"Wouldn't you rather explode yourself? Your favorite way: you, me, Urr."
"But you said Urr hurts." He was making excuses, still trying to focus on the magma.
"You may hurt me, I won't mind."
"Won't mind...hurt?" Hurting appealed to him most of all.
"My Lord Son, listen to me-- do you feel My Lust?"
He seemed to be too far gone into his trance, but I knew better, I was in with him. I sent a wave of My Own Lust at him. I had never initiated sex with Theron before, always the unwilling victim of His Lust
Still in his trance, but finally distracted from the magma pool, Theron reached for me.
But I realized something at that instant: I had planned on seducing Theron, even though I abhorred doing so, accepting that I must sacrifice my own pride & morality to save the world from the monster I had birthed. And yet when the moment came--I could only refuse to give Theron my sex; he did not deserve it. Not that the shame of the act would be anything new, he had already taken me against my will thousands of times, but to do so voluntarily was too much.
"NO!" I said, even as he clutched at me, tried to pull to him.
Theron laughed nastily and pulled harder, but I did not budge. He was surprised, then irritated to discover that he could not move me while the Urr flowed through us: I was as heavy as the planet.
"You may not have me, Theron. Never again."
He looked astonished, then hurt. "But Mommy, you're my FAVORITE fuck!"
"Never again, Theron."
Now he was enraged, "Oh yeah? You think you can say NO to ME?" He tried to twist my arm, but I was solid rock. He tried to topple me onto my back, but I was immovable. He hit me, but I was indestructible. He tried to jam his erection into me, but I was sealed shut. Then he became desperate.
"You HAVE to fuck me, Mother, I NEED you--I.. I.. love you."
"It's not a good love, my wicked son, in fact, it's absolutely evil."
"Then I'll just KILL you-- that'll show you evil," he snarled.
"If you do then the only one who loves you at all will be gone. You'll be alone in a world that hates you."
"Yeah well, you hate me too, I CAN read your thoughts, you know."
"Yes, I know-- and you can read that I also love you even while I hate you."
He looked into my eyes, as if he was considering my words, then his face became feral with rage, snarling "What good is your love if you won't fuck me?"
The Urr stopped flowing-- that is, Theron turned it off --so that he could overpower me as usual. I had been ready with an especially sharp shard of granite in my hand, trying not to think ahead to warn him, and the instant we both became unprotected I made my move.
With a single perfectly timed slash I aimed to cut off Theron's tail. That was his connection with the earth and the Urr, without that he was simply another Avatar like myself. I hoped.
But I never came close; he'd probably foreseen every possible move I could make, even though I had never formulated a plan and was running on sheer instinct. He caught my shard-hand and bent my wrist to disarm me, then threw me away from him.
We were still among the audience that had surrounded us, the video crew filming everything. I landed on the other side of the crowd, rolling and on my feet at once, ready for fight or flight. It could only be fight; I was done cowering for that brat. I leaped back into the circle to face my enemy and attacked. I could be feral too.
Like any True Born Avatar I have lived many lives in various incarnations, male or female, priest and warrior, and ancient skills can become available in times of emergency. I plowed into Theron with an onslaught of ninja-like techniques that staggered him. His arrogant laugh became a whimper, he was bleeding from his too-handsome face for the first time in his wicked 17-year-old life. He retreated and I pressed on, hitting, kicking, hurting him.
I finally saw a look of fear in Theron's eyes as he realized my determination to kill him. He could have done battle with me if he'd ever had a sense of honor, but instead he touched his tail to the earth and pulled up the Urr once again to be safe.
His telekinetic abilities kicked in: I was caught up in an invisible grip, lifted three meters above the ground and held there. It did no good to struggle, there was nothing to push against, I simply flailed around in empty air.
Theron looked up at me with a superior hate, his sneer the ugliest I had ever seen. "I've always known how much you loved/HATED me, but I let it slide because you have always been my favorite fuck for some stupid reason." He shook his head, as if with regret, but then smiled his most evil grin.
"But now I have to punish you, Mother. Have fun dying."
He hesitated. I believe he was hoping I would beg for mercy, but there was no way I could do that. At last I had tried my best to kill him, I was satisfied with that, why go on as his sex-slave and watch him destroy the earth? It was up to Immanuel now, or Ulfo, someone else with more power than I had.
"Any last words? We've got a TV crew recording any message you'd like to share with the world." Indeed, it was all being filmed, although I knew anything I had to say would be edited out.
But I spoke anyway, shouting to the others: "Theron must die or he will kill everyone! I failed, so someone else must do it!"
Theron's expression became even more ugly and bitter, truly HURT. Good, I thought. "Goodbye," he said.
I fell into the sky, thrust upward by Theron's Urr-powered telekinesis. The world dropped away beneath me, I saw the faces of our audience shrinking as they watched me disappear above them, then all of Africa and the Indian Ocean spread out in a vast panorama, the air became colder. I wondered if he was going to push me all the way out of the atmosphere to die in the vacuum of space, but eventually I stopped ascending and began to drop.
It was a long way down and I fell fast, gaining speed, Somalia coming up at me rapidly, like zooming in with Google Earth. Now I wondered if Theron was going to relent at the last second, but hoped not, I'd had enough of being his toy.
It was with some amusement that I saw I was going to land directly upon the little hut where it had all started. I hit, pretty hard, I think.
BACK WHERE I WAS
I opened my eyes. Darkness. But a darkness I recognized: I was still inside the hut. As I had been all along. Where I'd been enchanted, accursed, possessed. OK: where I'd been fooled. Those memories of a lifetime with Theron had been false, he did not even exist. Nothing had happened, I'd been untouched, even my clothing still in place.
"Back already? I'd hoped to get much more play out of you," it sounded almost disappointed.
"Nice try, Xablksga."
"Thank you. Isn't this fun?"
"Perhaps it's my turn to have fun," I warned it.
"Is it? You are still alone in my realm, angel, I can do with you as I please."
My astral mind reached for the angelic network, sensed a glimmer of whiteness, heard familiar voices calling my name. All of which flickered back into darkness, but I was in long enough to ascertain that the Coven was working on reaching me. I was not as alone as the demon believed.
"I enjoy your sexual qualities," it said to me, "let's play with them some more."
It occurred to me that this demon was a horny little nerd; the entire Theron episode had been a role-play fantasy. But since I was quite uninterested in yet another mass-rape scene, I decided to steer the fantasy myself. Stall until the angels broke through to me.
"Oh, but you've already had me, there's nothing new in that. Let us play something more interesting," I suggested.
"There is nothing more interesting than sex," it insisted, "juicy flesh, sprouting orgasms. pain & pleasure," on and on, a frustrated adolescent demon, obsessing on nipples and buttocks.
"You seemed fascinated with Theron," I observed.
"The concept of being the Antichrist is appealing: to be as evil as myself and incarnate in a body with all that sexual power, oh yes. Too bad he became Tazio."
"How do you know about Theron or Tazio?"
"From your own memories, angel. I'd never heard of them before you came to my little hut, but now I know everything you know. And more. You believe Theron is gone, but I know where he is now."
"Theron does not exist," I reminded it.
"Ah but Tazio and Theron are the same entity, as you have always known. And as for existing, that is such a relative concept: Tazio EXISTS here on Earthlevel, Theron (exists) in Hell. While actually they are both in Hell even now, together struggling for mastery over their common Earthlevel incarnation. However, Theron is by far the more passionate, so they might exchange places any moment now.
"Look, I'll show you..."
Eye (I) am a disembodied eye flying through Hell. Eye'd been there 18 years before, while dead for 3 days (seeming like eternity) after having been impregnated with The Antichrist in a Satanic ritual. So Eye recognize the Lake of Fire, the shooting and spinning islands of naked Hellrock colliding and exploding, the myriads of demons and monsters swimming and swarming and eating pain. It's all symbolic illusion, but seems real enough when in it.
Eye zoom through the flames to a cluster of minor Hellrocks, and there is Theron, apparently sneaking up on someone upon another Hellrock floating nearby. (M)eye first reaction is to fear him, but without a body Eye feel nothing and learn that Theron is quite unaware of anyone observing him. Probably because Eye'm not really there anyway.
He springs from tumbling rock to twirling rock, closing in on his quarry, probably to eat the pain of some prey (Hell is quintessentially demon-eat-demon). Eye am surprised to discover that the intended victim is Tazio, sitting in a meditative pose, absolutely relaxed, eyes closed, apparently unaware of being approached. The only article he wears is an amulet on a strap around his neck: it has a glowing greenish swirling center, which Eye comprehend is his soul.
Stealthily, Theron lands behind Tazio, who still takes no notice. Sneakily, Theron reaches around Tazio's neck to get the amulet. First after Theron yanks it free Tazio finally notices that he is being attacked.
Groggy from his trance, "...Theron? My soul stone?"
Theron cannot speak due to having been commanded to silence by Tazio the last time they had met in Hell. "g..." is the most he can utter.
Now awake, but still moving slow, Tazio stands to retrieve the stone. "Release it at once!"
"Ggg..." They grapple, Theron with a firm grip on the soul stone, Tazio fumbling irresolutely.
"Theron, I COMAND..."
"...gna!" Theron kicks Tazio in the crotch with great determination. "FUCK your command! Eh? I can TALK again!" He is surprised, amazed, overjoyed. "And I'm stronger than you now--I love it!" He clamps his hand around Tazio's face and shoves him down.
"I've been eating pain while you lost your appetite. ALL your appetites, fool! And now I'm stealing our soul and you don't have the passion to stop me. I love it!"
Now he has a grip around Tazio's neck and is lifting him, shaking him, shouting, "I want my incarnation back! You're just wasting it! I want it! Desire it! LUST for..."
The fires and flares of Hell faded away and I was back in my body and in the darkness of the little hut again.
"As you can see," Xablksga purred, "Theron may be back on Earthlevel soon, just as you have always feared. Heh heh."
"Am I really supposed to believe anything you show me, demon?"
"Ah but I have tested you, angel, and you have proved worthy. You could have surrendered to Theron and remained his fuck-bitch, but did not. So because I now admire you, I wish to warn you that the Tazio version of your son is about to succumb."
"Tazio needs no help from me," I insisted, just to continue the conversation, knowing how demons love to brag and sometimes say more than they intend to. I was still stalling; brief bursts of whiteness were tickling my astral mind, the angels were getting closer to me.
"You think not?" was the sly reply, "Tazio has caused himself to become a passionless hermit, surrendering his own sexuality along with every other human desire. He has stepped off the wheel, and is even now sitting alone in the middle of a desert, dreaming of nothingness. Becoming nothingness. His defenses are gone."
And my defenses arrived: I was suddenly back in contact with the angelic network, my head filled up with white light and angel voices instead of Xablksga's (although just having his name in my head was confusing enough). Physically, I lit up: literally shining with angelic light, as I had seen Ulfa do so many times. Xablksga screamed, unable to tolerate any kind of light.
Now I could see it, in the center of the hut: a twisted little penis-like animal/thing, limbless and blind, poking halfway-up out of the ground like a mushroom, misty wisps of ectoplasm energy swirling around it. Then my vision blurred and it became HUGE, a gigantic spider/crab filling up the hut, reaching for me with enormous pinchers, shrieking like a banshee.
Terror tricks, it was trying to scare me. Actually, it worked: I definitely flinched back.
And found myself landing hard on my ass outside the hut, having fallen out through the door, which had already slammed shut again to keep me out.
DEALING WITH REALITY
I flipped up to my feet, ready to charge back in...then reconsidered. It was almost dawn now, this demon thrived in darkness and would be weaker in daylight, perhaps even helpless. I could wait for an hour. Then destroy the hut so that there was no more shade.
Although now I could no longer sense that furnace of negative energy which had led me here, the shabby little hut now seemed quite abandoned and empty. The roof was tattered and the weather-warped walls seemed about to collapse, the door was obviously too frail to actually keep anyone out. It was almost comical how innocent it was pretending to be.
Not so for the pirates of Eyl. A large crowd of armed and aggressive local men was gathering around the hut. Others approached from the sides and back, to close off any escape route. That swarm of rapacious men in the dark hut had been phantoms of the demon's magic, but these men in the dim light of dawn were quite real. About 40-50 of them, mostly young men without prospects who had come to Eyl to make their fortunes as pirates, inspired by the spirit of the place: Xablksga. They'd been serving as vassals, obeying the silent psychic suggestions the demon emitted, although they probably weren't ever aware of it. But they were aware of me.
The men were looking my way, pointing, murmuring together, deciding I was suspicious. I considered making a stand, but knew I couldn't fight them all without hurting or killing some of them. So I turned and ran.
A shout went up and they began the chase, the 40 men now became 60. I was faster than any of them, but they were already spread out around me. I went for the beach, the only way open. A few men managed to get in my way, tried to grab me, but I tossed them aside and soon I was in the waters of the Red Sea. Just as bullets had begun to fly.
They tried to follow me but I swam away from them all, except for two motorboats that came speeding around from the harbor, evidently called in by Xablksga. Those men were armed and began shooting from a distance, so I had to go underwater until I lost them.
Perhaps I make that sound easy; it wasn't. The water is quite clear and the sun had come up, so they could have seen me had they sailed just above. I can hold my breath for longer than a mortal, but I do have limits. I had to swim quite far out to sea before coming up for air.
I was alone out there, but knew they'd be watching for me all along the coastline, probably for the rest of the day. Not wishing to spend that entire day treading water I studied that coast for an advantageous landing point. Avoiding open beaches I aimed for a rocky outcrop with large jagged boulders jutting up through the waves. Dangerous, but lots of hiding places.
I made it to shore, only slightly scratched up in the process. A couple of men spotted me and came after me, but they had only machetes, no guns, so I disarmed and paralyzed them for a few hours. As of yet I had not been forced to permanently harm anyone.
Once on land I could move through the hills back toward Eyl. Sometimes I met men out to get me, but as long as there were only a few of them instead of a stampeding horde of demon-driven zombies, I could handle them.
Quite by circumstance I came upon a hostage camp in those hills. It was a cluster of tents, guarded by 30 armed men, a rather large operation with supply trucks coming and going. I ambushed one of the men to learn that the camp imprisoned 65 hostages from 3 tanker ships taken by pirates in the Indian Ocean over the last year.
I'd been hoping to find those hostages. Our Coven knew they were being held somewhere near Eyl, but Xablksga's demonic domination of the local people had blurred any precise location, so it was only due to the pirate's attempting to catch me that I came upon the camp. Call it luck, or destiny, who knows? Now all I had to do was overpower 30 guards and sneak 65 hostages out of Xablksga's zone of influence without killing or harming anyone.
Or put Xablksga out of the loop, which would certainly be preferable.
I continued toward the town, coming upon small groups of men mobilized to find and capture me. As long as there were less than 5 men they never had a chance against me, and soon I was approaching the hut. About 20 armed soldiers stood guard.
It was unlikely that I could talk them down if Xablksga was actively controlling them, I'd be required to use physical force. So I did, moving quickly, using ancient fighting techniques from previous lives. I beat them all up, without even getting myself shot.
Once I had my chance I ran at the hut, jumped against it full speed with all my weight. The shabby little hut crunched and tipped over on its side. It was really dilapidated, rotten poles snapped off at ground level and it rolled away from what had been its earthen floor.
That little penis/mushroom was directly exposed to the noonday African sun. It was rooted into the ground and could not scamper away, so it sizzled, screamed, then burned out brightly like a flare. Smoke. Gone. Back to Hell, I suppose.
A NEW MOON
After that I had no trouble with the pirates. Well, no organized trouble, they were still bad men, but no longer being psychically coerced to do evil. Their antagonism to me dwindled to mere greed and male lust. I broke the hostages out of the camp, commandeering several trucks to transport them into Eyl town.
Some of the pirates tried to regain control of their hostages, but too many people became involved, including some not-corrupt police. And of course, handing out weapons to the hostages made them somewhat less controllable.
I let them take care of themselves; I had a fresh water project to arrange. Pipes and pumps had arrived, there were jobs for ex-pirates.
I was happy to see Sister Natalia alive and well. It had been horrible experiencing what Theron had done to her, as well as all those Somali men and women-- and myself. But although it seemed real at the time, none of that had actually occurred except in my own mind.
I'm not certain that I had actually seen what the world would be like if Theron hadn't vanished to become Tazio instead, it could have been an alternative reality, or simply an hallucinogenic nightmare. At least I have been reminded that everything Tazio does with his powers is a consistent opposite to how Theron would have used them.
And yet I found myself haunted by that scene of Tazio and Theron fighting in Hell, struggling for ownership of their life on Earth. Although why that vision should seem more valid than those other false Theron memories, I was uncertain, but left with a nagging urge to find out if Tazio was actually vegetating in some desert and wasting away.
Because Xablksga got his revenge by speaking true in this: yes, I have always feared that Tazio would become Theron again.
I used my GPS satellite telephone with direct access to dTCorp HQ in New York. I called Jytte to report progress in the Eyl Fresh Water Project, then asked her if anyone knew where Tazio was. She said she'd check into it. A few hours later she called me back.
"We're pretty sure Tazio's sitting alone in the middle of the Nubian Desert, at least the satellite photos show a spot that could be him. He isn't moving, but angelic psychics pick up a low-level yet constant Urr-activity in that region. So he's alive, but doesn't seem to be doing...anything. We think he's weird-ing out."
"Maybe I should go pick him up," I suggested, Somalia being relatively close to that desert, "I could be there in 2 days."
"The rules say no, we Angels must avoid contact with him until Megiddo, as arranged. Instead, the girls have located a native tribe near the edge of the Nubian Desert, the Ma'waaluuki, who have been evicted from their village by the new government and are starving. They could use a god, just as Tazio needs a project to wake him up.
"They have a highly adept shaman who, without being an Avatar, has achieved access to the astral network via Dream Magic. His name is Wa'lah'khabi. We need you, as Tazio's Mother for the proper symbolic value in his culture, to send him a dream."
"And how do I do that?" I wondered, never having tried such a thing.
"Our Coven will gather and open the channels at the apex of the New Moon tomorrow night. We'll get you into his dreams."
The New Moon came up over the sea that night, looking like a big black hole in a sky full of bright star-clusters. I knew that somewhere on the other side of the world Ulfa was in her almost-divine phase, so I tried to hear her among the astral voices, but could not find her presence. I hoped she was all right, wondered if she was still trapped in that secret underground military base.
Then the whiteness came to me and I was with many other angels, also of Our Coven; Jytte, Evangeleva, Cindy, and all the other girls.
Although I appeared to be standing alone on a beach in Somalia, some woman in prayer, I was actually located everywhere in the world at once, with many friends in a vast astral gathering. I was introduced to the African shaman in his dream, as arranged.
I told Wa'lah'khabi that my son had magical abilities to aid the tribe, but had lost his way and needed to be aroused. I gave directions to find him in the desert and asked that he challenge Tazio to be a god for the Ma'waaluuki people.
The old shaman-- dreaming but not asleep --surprised me by asking a question: "Am I not to also convey him a message of his mother's love and affection?"
We were speaking within his dream, a symbolic realm from another culture, so I considered for a moment; was this a magical chance to begin mending my heartless relationship with Tazio?
But my answer was: "No, or he would not believe the message was from me."