My Loneliness Writes

No matter how many times Im told I'm not alone, I feel more alone. The crickets and the tic tock of clocks are unhappy reminders every evening of how alone I truly am. Waves of decent gestures, big written notes of get wells and moments of time spliced into smiles and laughter shared with people who believe to love me make me feel more alone and I don't know how to shut off my mind. How do I shut off my true feelings of not wanting to blink or breath? I keep wishing to the Universe that when I go to sleep I don't wake up to see the next day filled with falsehood and unsolicited hellos. I am swamped in a world where I stare at walls and choke on hopes that my life would be better in some other form. It's very easy to tell someone that it will be okay rather than to prepare them for truth and that is life is unknown, the paths we walk we could have every bit of energy directed to a positive but torn completely towards another way in an instant. My instant came and I have no idea how to navigate in this. I don't know how I can keep up the facade that I want to be here living the way I am. We are taught that death is an end or possibly a beginning of something. We hang on to notions of damnation towards others who feel like I feel and that's simply just checking out so my energy can check into a new life. I'm unsure if it will be better than what I desire desperately to leave behind but I know pain, true internal emotional pain can't follow. I've held in the belief that my life is ruined, but really its just the idea of what I wanted and wished my life to be for 20 something years and a forceful reset has been pressed but not by my own hand. I think if I pressed it, it wouldn't be this way. I was totally faking it till I made it these past few months, but damn I am very tired. People keep saying have strength, have this to look towards or that... what the fuck? What the fuck! What the fuck! Nothing makes sense, we just keep faking it and making it appear to make sense of senselessness with no one taking responsibility. I honestly don't want to be here anymore and it doesn't scare me, however I am worried about those who are in my circle stomping on my ashes calling me names and being angry so know your fire prevents my candle from burning out, but I don't want to be here. I am as I have always been since I was a little, waiting for my death by external means so I can finally say goodbye.

Creation of Sisterhood - Excerpt from The Armageddon Lecture Vol.One

Creaking of her quarter’s heavy stone door startled Tinara. Someone struggling to push open the massive rock appeared before her blurry vision. Not sure who was coming in, she reached to the floor to find her wooden dagger. To her surprise a woman, definitely not Antri, but just as pale with her brown hair wrapped with torn maroon fabric entered.

At first, the laid up pregnant teenager went unnoticed as the woman pushed a metal cart with wooden water buckets and a pile of old grimy washrags on its surface. Tinara’s inner child could barely contain her excitement while her young adult-self had hundreds of questions to ask. Never had she been given the opportunity to interact with another woman besides Antri. Tinara was so curious; she started with a simple greeting.

            “Hello!” Tinara’s unexpected voice caused the woman to knock over one of the water buckets. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you!”

The slave woman, whose rotted teeth shown as she cracked a smile of embarrassment, lifted the empty bucket from the floor, “Um, its okay. I didn’t know anyone was going to be in here. That old lizard just told me there was a mess that needs to be cleaned up, so here I am.”

            Even then her smile brightened Tinara’s day and therefore she smiled back, “You must be talking about Slithor.”

            “What, you know that ugly decrepit thing’s name?”    

            “Of course,” gazing at the splattered fruits and meats around the room, Tinara continued with herself now embarrassed, “he’s the one who brings me this food.”

Not all that excited about having to clean it up, she replied, “I see! You sure are eating pretty good up here!”

“Do you have a name?” she reached to shake the nervous slave woman’s hand. “Mine is Tinara.”

            “I’m Penelope,” Tinara shook her hand and immediately recognized how dirty and rough Penelope’s hands were, “I’m told it’s a bit old fashioned, but um, that’s the name I was given nonetheless. Well it’s nice to meet you, Tinara, but I really shouldn’t make small talk. I have to clean this place up in a hurry or they’ll kill me!”

Penelope got down on her hands and knees and scrubbed the floor like her life depended on it.

Tinara’s curiosity didn’t allow her to let Penelope to clean in peace.

“What do you mean, old fashioned?” asked Tinara as if the term is foreign to her vocabulary.

            “Well, I was a small child when we were brought here. One of the ladies who looked after me said it comes from a time long ago before the Empire was formed, which is why it’s old fashioned.”

            “I think it’s a nice name.”

            “Thanks. Hey, how old are you, Tinara?”

            “I don’t know, Antri told me I was a newborn baby when we came here. Since then she’s lost track of time.”

            “Really? Then you have no memories of the Empire of Earth, do you?”

            “No, but Antri told me all sorts of stories. She even drew me pictures on some tree leaves she stole from Venomous’s quarter.”

Memories of Antri’s thievery caused Tinara to dig through the straw in her bed. She burst into laughter when she unearthed a fistful of papyrus, the same used to inscribe Melonite archives, with childlike scribble all over them.

“Here, I still have them. Take a look. Is this what the empire looks like?”

Penelope burst into laughter of her own while evaluating the awful artwork. Tinara was instantly displeased with the slave woman’s reaction to her caretaker’s drawings.

“Why are you laughing? Is something not right?”

            “I’m sorry, Tinara, but these are terrible!” Penelope tried to stop laughing, but couldn’t. “It looks like a kid drew them! Your caretaker is a horrible artist!”

            “Stop laughing; and don’t say bad things about Antri either!” an offended Tinara chastised.

            “Oh, I’m sorry, Tinara,” Penelope released her last bit of laughter, “but the Empire of Earth is much more beautiful a place than these pictures can show you. However, if this is all you have, hold on to them dearly; at least it’s something.”

            “I’ve dreamt about it though; about what it may look like, but I guess I’ll never really know, huh, Penelope?”

Eight seconds of awkward silence briefly superseded their chatter. Answerless, Penelope simply got back to what she came up there for in the first place, but of course Tinara couldn’t stay quiet for too long.

            “How many years have we been here?”

 Penelope dropped the fruit covered washrag into a bucket of filthy water, “I have something to show you.”

Hidden beneath her garment’s collar, Penelope excavated a dull silver necklace with the pyramid shaped locket. She popped it opened and revealed a glowing display of constantly changing numbers and words that Tinara recognized from Antri’s teachings.

“Have you ever seen one of these before, Tinara?”

            “No!” she replied awestruck. “What is it?”

            “It’s a calendometer. It keeps track of time. Years, months, days, hours, minutes, seconds, you name it and its all there.”

            “Wow! How does it work?”

            “Well, it’s quite simple really. See this dial?”

            “Uh huh…” Tinara had no idea what she was looking at, but still expressed a deep interest.

            “All I have to do is point it towards the sky during sunrise and then again at sunset, turn the dial so it records the information then it calculates days, months, and so on based on the time interval between day and night. It also stores previously recorded information so you could compare the current time zone with other locations. For instance, if I want to know the date and time on the Empire of Earth, I just go into the memory index and find the data; see here?” the technical explanation went right over Tinara’s head, yet she still listened with open ears, “but here’s the craziest thing about it; in our time on Melonon we’ve been taken to several different parts of the planet to do work. Every chance I have, I record information just to get a general idea of just how endless or days and nights are. Then one day, I decided to compare all of the Empire of Earth’s time data with what I gathered here. And do you wanna know what I found out? Melonon’s sunrise and sunset, no matter where you are on the planet, will match identical to one of the nine districts on the empire, which means that the time between the two planets runs parallel to each other!”

            “I see.”

“I’m not making any sense to you am I?”     

            “Oh no, it’s not that; I was just thinking. Is it possible for that thing to be wrong? After all, Penelope, we’re in an entirely different universe. Please forgive me. I’m not the smartest person I’m sure, but wouldn’t it make more sense for time to be different also?”

            “A different universe, huh? Then I guess anything’s possible. To tell you the truth, I can’t believe this thing still works. The capacitors mustn’t have run out yet.”

            “What’s a capacitor do?” asked Tinara again as the vocabulary was new to her.

            “Capacitors are storage devices for energy. The calendometer harnesses solar energy, you know, from the sun. Are you following me so far?”

            “Yes,” said Tinara with a smile.

“Okay, then it transfers that energy into twelve capacitors, one for each month. The calendometer can operate up to a full year without additional power from the sun. Whenever they take us from the Oblivion Cell to work on the surface I’m able to let it charge. I have to be careful though. I keep it hidden so the lizards won’t take it from me or worse. I’ve had it for quite some time now.”

“It must mean a lot to you, Penelope.”

“Yeah well Seru, the woman who looked after me when we were brought here, gave it to me on my fifteenth birthday. She said it was the only piece of the Empire she had left and she wanted me to have it. Then she died…” Penelope started to tear up, “Anyhow, I can use it to find out how old you are! Let’s see. Ah, wait a minute it’s easier than that.”

            “What do you mean? You said it was simple. So far it doesn’t sound all that simple to me!”

            “Oh relax, Tinara!” Penelope laughed when she returned the imperial relic to its hiding place. “I figured out that we’ve been on this planet for seventeen years, if you were a newborn when we came then you’re obviously seventeen years old!” 

            “Seventeen?” the new information excited Tinara. “That would mean that Murderar is seventeen years old too!”

            “Murderar, as in King Murderar; what does he have to do with anything?” Penelope continued to clean.

            “He’s the father of my hatchlings,” she said unhappily. “That’s why I’m here and not down in the Oblivion Cell, supposedly. For some reason I was… chosen to give birth to his heirs, but I don’t know why.”

            “What! You actually know which one of these monsters is the father of your babies? Six times now I’ve been impregnated by God knows probably six different snakes! I wouldn’t even be able to recognize their ugly faces if I seen them. So you’ve never been in the Oblivion Cell?”

            “No, well except for when Antri and I tried to escape. Obviously we were didn’t make it.”

            “Hey, that was you? Yeah! Now I remember. You and that other woman ran past my cage. We were all routing for you! We hoped you’d get away although we knew you wouldn’t make it. You and your caretaker are like celebrities you know?”

            “Celebrities, what are they?”

            “You know; you’re kinda like heroes to us. Your courage just for attempting that was something we’ll never forget! Your caretaker, Antri right; where’s she now? Why isn’t she the one cleaning this mess up?”

            “After we were caught; I haven’t seen her since,” Tinara’s face sunk. “At this point I don’t know if she’s alive or dead. All I know is I miss her so much.”

“Wait, you tried to escape and you’re still alive? They didn’t throw you down there with the rest of us? Wow, you must be really important!”

            “I don’t feel as though I’m any more important than you or anyone else.”

            “Well, you must be,” after finishing the floor, Penelope started on the door and wall. “Think about it, they didn’t put you in the Oblivion Cell and out of all the women; you were chosen to carry on a royal legacy. The rest of us, we mean nothing to them. We’re just biological soldier factories! They come and go as they please; taking away from us everything that makes us who we are! I’ve given birth to twenty some-odd children. I’ve lost count it’s been so many and I’m still young and fertile so I know I have a long road ahead.”

Sympathetic ears listened as Tinara realized that her situation was nothing compared to the women in the Oblivion Cell.

“They kill us you know,” a tear trickled down Penelope’s cheek, after we’re no longer fertile or when our bodies had enough, they kill us; burn us alive in their giant furnaces. Death and suffering is all I see now; only about half of the women who were brought here still remain. So how does it feel to be important now?”

            “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought of it that way before.”

            “Well you should; and when you find out, embrace your importance… as long as you can. It may save your life.” 

            “Do you really believe that, Penelope?”

            “Yes I do, Tinara, very much so,” she responded while scraping meat from a crack in the wall.

            “I’m not so sure I do. I keep asking myself if this is the life God intended for us to live? Lately, I’m beginning to think that maybe it is. I don’t understand it, but I can only hope that somehow some good will come from it.”

            “Hold on to your faith and never let go. You lose that, next it’s your humanity; then what’s left, huh?”

With Tinara left at a loss for words, Penelope gathered her cleaning utensils and dumped all the broken bowl pieces in a waste bin on the cart.

“I’m all finished now,” said Penelope with a hint of sarcasm. “I must go before that Slithor character comes looking for me. I thank you for making that horrible mess; talking with you gave me a chance to escape reality for a moment, although that’s all we talked about mostly. I see you’re in your last trimester. Good luck with your babies Tinara. Goodbye now.”

            “Wait!” the pregnant teen desperately pleaded, “don’t go just yet! Please stay as long as you can! I have more fruits in that bowl over there and there’s fresh water in the basin if you’d like to take a warm bath! I also have some clean garments that Antri made for me; you can change into one if you’d like! Oh, Penelope, please stay a while longer! I’m in debt to you for sharing yourself with me!”

            “Tinara, you’re so kind and I’m glad to have met you, but I can’t accept these things. They’re yours and they were placed here for you only. Remember what I said; embrace your importance ― as long as you can.”

Penelope rummaged in her collar to retrieve the calendometer again. She rested the imperial timepiece in Tinara’s palms then closed her hands around it.

“I want you to hold on to this for me,” insisted Penelope.

            A jaw dropped Tinara couldn’t believe it, “but I can’t, it was a gift to you —”

            “I know, but one way or another, God will allow our paths to cross again someday and when that day comes I want you to give it back to me. Can you promise me that?”

            “Yes,” she said unsure of herself. “I promise.”

            “You may look at this device and think it’s nothing but a hunk of metal with fancy numbers, but it’s so much more than that. It’s a representation of our home world, the Empire of Earth; it’s a small piece of where we come from, our heritage, and who we are as a people. If I can’t give you that Tinara, then I have given you nothing at all.”

Penelope hugged Tinara, kissed her forehead, then pushed her cart into the torch lit hallway, but again the seventeen-year-old stopped her.

            “Penelope! I have a favor to ask of you.”

            “Yes, what is it?”

            “I need you to promise me something now. If you see Antri down there, can you tell her that I love her and I miss her?”

            Penelope smiled, “I promise.”

            “Thank you. Thank you for everything!”

            “The pleasure was all mine.”

Tinara sadly listened to the wheels of Penelope’s cart bang against the uneven cobblestone floor. She listened until it could no longer be heard.

She played with the calendometer all night long. Tinara cherished it knowing that it was a token of a new friendship.

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Lieutenant Killarak - Excerpt from The Armageddon Lecture Vol. One

Like an angel of death falling from the high heavens, Lieutenant Killarak over and over again avoided the initial danger of the webbing torpedoes. His descent came to a screeching halt when he landed directly on an Almasain spider creature crushing its thorax, breaking all four legs, and leaving all four arms mangled. The quick-witted Venom swung ruthlessly his axes in an X fashion, splitting the unfortunate arachnid into four separate pieces. With attacks coming from all directions, he didn’t think, he didn’t have time to; he just swung his battle axes tirelessly and with an undeniable passion.

The mastership of his craft was impeccable.

Hell accompanied every swing.

Salvation from a life worthless and purposeless followed every strike.

His spiteful blades demonstrated their exoskeleton’s inferiority.

Severing limb after limb, dismembering heads, dodging each and every webbing torpedo, Lieutenant Killarak and his once out numbered faction spearheaded the extermination of Almasain spider creatures until the entire vicinity was rid of them.    

King Murderar ordered that the Lieutenant and his faction were to conquer Almas’ southern sector, city by city. Twenty-six more Messiahs provided reinforcements.  Simultaneously, twenty-six cities were destroyed. Lieutenant Killarak and his faction scoured the fresh ruins for survivors to be used as slaves; unfortunately, the injured and fatally wounded were of no use and therefore the unsympathetic Venom war official gladly supervised and took part in ending their misery.

They left behind them the carnage of forty-nine conquered cities before reaching the hive city of Bersand where ahead in the near distance, an unimaginably numbered army of hornets, yellow jackets, and dragonflies, didn’t hesitate to intercept the raging reptilian outlanders.

Lieutenant Killarak never flinched.

He ran toward his opponents; his opponents flew toward him.

Ignoring the uncomfortably humid air’s smell and taste of burning flesh, he ran toward his defining moment, toward the opportunity to create his legacy; governed by all that was Melonite within him, with his bloodstained battle axes tightly gripped, he ran — he ran in the direction of conquest.

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Lieutenant Serpentine - Excerpt from The Armageddon Lecture Vol. One

Nightfall hung over their heads like a canopy. Visibility was practically omitted from being. And the mountains were quiet, too quiet. Not even the wind’s whistle could be heard. A Melonite-Venom Army faction of over fifty thousand, under the authority of the first born Venom, was led into the dark caverns. She halted them.

“This does not seem right!” Lieutenant Serpentine voiced to herself.

Her Melonite intuition compelled her to just concentrate on the unnatural silence. Blocking out the distant explosions and cries for mercy to listen to the muted mountains; Lieutenant Serpentine could not only hear the wind, but she could hear beating hearts and footsteps treading against the rocky hillside.

“The mountains are indeed alive!” she confirmed. 

Lieutenant Serpentine commanded her soldiers to activate their all-seeing optical masks to enable sight in the darkness.

Sneak attack!

Cannons blasted at the looming reptiles as the mountainous territory crawled with humanoid ant militias. However, the Melonites’ primitive war tactics reigned supreme over the Almasains’ technologically superior weaponry. They swung their swords faster than they could aim. Lieutenant Serpentine’s spheres of spiked malachite destroyed the enemy faster than they could pull their triggers. Gaining the upper hand, she guides her faction through the high hills, valleys and trees, leaving apocalyptic casualties to pave over the rough environment.

“Lieutenant Serpentine!” King Murderar yelled through her wyspor.

Lieutenant Serpentine didn’t stop fighting; she just continued to lead the insect massacre. Bludgeoning ant creatures with spiked balls in one hand and then answering her wyspor in the other, she promptly responded.

“Yes, my King!”

“I need you to withdraw from your attack!”

“What!” immediately she didn’t agree and nearly said so, but she remained silent.

“I repeat, withdraw! Some time ago Calligaster called for reinforcements in the northwest sector. General Cyclopian reported that your father’s faction was extremely outnumbered and would not hold up for long. He has already lost a vast number of soldiers and we have since lost contact with him. Dirge’s and Qopporhed’s factions had also fell victim in the struggle.”

Lieutenant Serpentine panicked, “What do you want me to do?”

“While the remainder of General Cyclopian’s faction continues its conquest in the west, he has acted alone in an attempt to save your father and I was unable to reason with him. Since your faction is within the closest proximity to the northwest, you will have to provide additional forces if he stands a chance to make it out alive. Make your way to the northwest sector before time runs out!”

Messiahs hovering over the dark mountains busted them wide open as nuclear doomsday devices left giant craters of death where life used to be. Mountain tops avalanched as Lieutenant Serpentine and her armada of Messiahs navigated their way to the northwest sector to rush to the aid of her doomed kindred. 

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Darker Light

A weak seed planted itself within the enriching soil of its mother

Growth began yet death imprinted

Time halted or so it felt as she watched her belly form from womb to tomb

Ready to welcome smooth breathing and a piercing outcry

The God with a mask and rubber gloves scurried away with the mother’s precious star

The might of sun rose and fell upon the face of a thousand tears for several days

Then in final melancholic tunes from the once exalted God explained that though love was there it could not sustain

The cosmos spiraled and roared with ignorance of direction allowing another seed to be planted

The disenchanted hearts nourished and unconsciously imprinted perfection of which in their hearts a

mirror was erected towards death and rebirth

The new soul then flowed upward like a winding tree and soulitified with broken branches and scared bark

To be told through broken glass, broken bone, and whipped skin to have never been good enough,

smart enough, and straight enough to fulfill the missing welcome of his dead brother

Though however gloom he stood tall in the sun to everyone’s amazement yet the question was

continuously posed how?

After years of inner torment and outer self destruction the universe placed a hand upon him which

eased all suffering and opened his mind to a purpose in which no one could comprehend and so they

still pull and nudge towards him so they could find a satisfying response

A response in which shall never roll off his lips, a response that does not exist

Because he took his soul and cycled it through death and rebirth all on his own

Burning Flesh Shot To The Ground Like Comets - Excerpt from The Armageddon Lecture: Vol. One

            Amongst the outer perimeter of the Royal Fortress, once lurid statues erected in the likeness of past Melonite kings and septemvittatas made for an awe-inspiring pathway to The Tomb of Tortured Souls. Illuminated by the melancholic soiree of torchlight, Septemvittata Khanquisidor’s lifeless body continued to bleed out all over the incinerator. 

            The grieved King’s impaired thoughts caught up with him as he stared into the open eyes of his damned mate. By now he was used to insects crawling from out of her hemoglobin dripping cheekbones. King Venomous’s hand attached itself to the lever as if it had a mind of its own and without hesitation opened the hell beneath her.

              Septemvittata Khanquisidor’s burning flesh shot to the ground like comets. The inconsolable Melonite sovereign covered his ears for he couldn't bear the screams of her tortured soul as it escaped its smoldering prison. The screaming was over for what was left was nothing but ash. King Venomous didn'tallow the salty water to return.

            “I have found a way,” he said. “For you and I may have been defeated, Khanquisidor, our lineage will not be.”

            King Venomous made sure the newborn Murderar saw his Mother’s fiery remains as he declared to him, “Since you cannot bear a sword, I will bear it for you… When I return; a new Melonon will be born, and then the stepping stones to your reign will be placed before you.”

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"Filling The Messiahs" Excerpt From The Armageddon Lecture Vol One

Upon their exit of the grand medical ward, Lieutenant Vyper received an urgent transmission from Dirge on his wyspor.

“The Messiahs have surpassed the ninety percent arsenal exhaustion threshold! We will not be able to fend the humans off much longer! Besides, the Messiahs are at full capacity! It is time to make haste if we plan on leaving victorious! Dirge out!”

“But that is impossible!” exploded King Venomous. “We hardly have enough humans to repopulate the northern sector let alone Melonon in its entirety!”

“I understand, my Lord, but ―”

“No, Vyper, you do not understand! Until each word in every human vernacular that is associated with their female species ceases to exist, until the solitary cages, cargo bays, munitions zones, and even the pulpits are chocked-full of them, until their journey to Melonon is as unpleasant for them as it is for me to take them there; the Messiahs will not be at capacity, so fill them!”

“Your Highness, remember that we only have twelve Messiahs. Even if we reach the capacity you desire, the sought after numerical prerequisite would still be impossible to achieve! Furthermore, our fuel economy is regulated only for the capacity in which all Messiahs have currently reached; anything more and we risk not making it back to Melonon at all! That would mean we die, rather unceremoniously might I add. It is like you said, dying is not an option we have.”

“Fill them!” demanded King Venomous.

“Very well, Your Highness.”

Assertively, the Melonite triune made their way out of the Imperial Palace. The once sanctified headquarters of the Empire of Earth was defaced by the carnage of its noble protectors. Unmelodic whimpers of those who hung on by threads serenaded their departure.

Heavenward they went; the symbols of God and the judgment deliverers, taking with them pieces of what made the Empire of Earth so beautiful, pieces gone forever.

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