No.183782
what the fuck is this thread
all of you, kill yourselves
No.183794
>>183792
i am of this site
No.183797
bump
No.183847
>>183846i lack words to describe what im feeling
No.183866
why this brimstone thread stilla live
No.183992
up
No.184054
The diary of a Holocaust survivor:
I remember the day they took me in to the camps. They shot me at the back of my head, yet I survive long
enough to be met by my captor. My name is Misha Razminovich Coalstein, and this is my story.
I was born on the Island of Zion, somewhere close to USSR, between a region named Crime and
Holomodor. Life was uneasy, for even before I was born, I knew I would be killed. Call it pre-birth
intuition, which is like tuition because I love money. That’s all we knew, as a ‘poor’ Jewish family born
in those parts. We lived in a small Zionist village named Israel-Palestine. It happened before the war,
before both wars, before all three of them happened and before I knew it, I was born.
The world was mightily cruel, as everyone wanted to kill me. That was what my parents told me; even
before by Rabbi chewed off my genitals, I knew this peaceful existence of mine was not meant to last. I
was born on a Monday afternoon, in a secluded place, a little far away from the farm I grew up in, near
the mines, where we put the dark skinned Jews to work, while we fair-skinned folk watched over, as that
was life back then. There were simpler times than there were today. When you could grab a child, undress
him and have your way-way with him, with the Rabbi looking in a different direction. Turning a blind eye
to the whole doing, while you had your fun; and there were a lot of men having their fun on that Island.
It’s why they wanted to kill us to begin with.
It was the rite of passage and we all went through it. I was marked by it, I wear my foreskin to this day, in
a vial. Eight men had to tackle down the Rabbi so he would spit it out, but not because he was strong, but
because us Jews are weak and I always suspected the Rabbi not to be a Jew but an ethnic Russian man�priest who hated us, who wanted to convert us yet who also chewed off our genitals for some reason. I
often found myself staring at him, and him at me. Did he notice I observed him? Could he know of what
they did to me after? I did not know back then.
They stitched my genitals back together the wrong way. It was done by a German Jew I did not know the
name off. He later goes on to perform an abortion on a man; turning him a woman. They put little tubes in
his mouth and on the other side, just like OB’s, they put period in them, just like OB’s, then, they pull
them out, they put it as stuffing, as to make his breasts. They chew off his genitals, which I have no doubt
that it has been observed here, on this very Island I was born in by someone I deem to be an ethnic
Russian Jew, of a Christian background, which brings us to this very day, where I was finally brought to
the day of Judgment.
I was a young boy of fifteen, I think I was born in Nineteen fifty, Nineteen eighty ten, give or take. I’m
not as smart as the others Jews, that much is clear. I was always last during the classes, when we studied
The Tallmud, the mathematics, the sciences and how to fuck over poor people, and drive them into
poverty. We did not learn proper math, like they did with the rich Jews who had their special classes,
instead, we were only tasked with making it seem like we did the proper numbers just so they feel like we
actually did them right, but we always ended up being owed more than we gave and lend. To show this
example, take a single day in the courtyard. Outside our class; we’re not supposed to talk about what we
does, but there’s no one else around here, there’s no one else to stop me. I am old, I am exhausted, I am
No.184055
almost dead and I’m afraid that my poor heart isn’t going to take it anymore, after being shot and shocked
so many times I feel as if a stroke is, dearly me approaching.
Ezekiel was one of my closest friends in the camps, in the playground. We grew up together, we were like
brothers; as were our parents since it was an insulated community, just like camps.
We were playing a game of backgammon, while being watched over by one our supervisors, who was
making sure there wouldn’t be no foul play happening. Knowing that someone already tipped him, we
went in and already began to share in what we brought from off seas.
‘I believe this game is concluded. Indeed it is, that means that I’m owed twenty oysters.’
There were only eight to begin with.
This was a fair game, where everyone knew the rules before it started. We were all acquainted with the
term of ‘interest’ but neither of us ever expected for it to be aimed at one of us.
It says so in the old code of Tallmud, which predates every existing text of humanity, or so the Jews
claim, that it was given to them by their father, of lies. But that is something one may not discuss by any
means. There’s this concept, nonetheless known as no honor amongst Jews, the Jews stole it from the
thieves.
The thieves then stabbed the Jews and killed them. And that’s how anti-Semitism was born. It’s a story
that’s being carried over from mother to son and its meaning is lost. Only the hatred for the people
survives and the meaning of the hatred has no reason other than ignorance for God’s chosen people,
which can be seen manifesting to this day.
Ezekiel did not know his place in the world. He didn’t know you’re not supposed to do that to one of your
own, but then again it’s not unheard of for a Jew to be found lying in a ditch, trampled by niggers or one
of his own.
I never knew how it happened, I never understood it and I couldn’t have prevented it even if I knew of it.
They arrived on the island during my studies. Eighteen German soldiers that had just deflected from one
of the fight in the Near-Eastern region; they looked beaten, awfully so. They were exhausted, their bones
were rationed, as in they had to chop off their limbs and they settled on eating their own bones in order to
survive since they weren’t cannibals, they had to do with what they had. And what they had on them was
their own, their own bones, as neither man would come as close as eat from one of the Ruskies from
around the graves. Ever since I lay my eyes on them, I knew my life was over. Although at the same time,
I felt jealousy for the first time in my life, after noticing how dreamy eyed the Jewesses were upon laying
their eyes on the soldiers. They were somewhat impeccably mesmerized by the men. Even though some
of them looked disabled, two German men carried one of their own who had his legs, half a body, and one
of his arms blown off by a mine. His features were indistinguishable from jack-hammer working its way
through a little block of iron, yet he was breathing. I confess that I do not know what the Germans are
made out of, yet I’m intrigued as to suspect that it’s a hard material, and they’re much likely to be iron
nickel or something like that. AN alloy that’s strong and rouse up; I also realized then that I was just as
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mesmerized by them as the Jewesses, because of my own short-comings and neuroticism. And I felt fear
for the first time in my life.
Before I knew it, before we knew it, before we knew there was a war, there was no fight and we were
conquered. It was a short-lived battle, as there was no resistance offered whatsoever. No fight, nothing.
We were a peaceful people and they didn’t seem to buy our lies or our sweet talk, leaving us, much to our
dismay unarmed, incapable of preventing them from taking our women and putting us in little cages they
carried on with them, from Germany. They shoved our people into little cages, going as far as to put
eighteen men at a time. But at no time were we allowed to be near our women, who seemed to be carried
on their backs, like the raping of the Sabine women, as it happened all over again. Even that German man,
whom I later come to know as Hans who was a guard at one of the death-camps I was temporarily
stationed in, the one without legs and an arm missing appeared to carry one of them on his back; which
only made it the more of a humiliating defeat, and an affront to our weakness and failure as men.
But what added insult to injury was the fact that he was merely pretending, as the men simply put Hans
down, who began walking on the stumps as if he hadn’t felt anything at all, as if nothing had happened
and he was born short. He endured through much, and he still managed to get his arms wrapped around
one.
Our cages were put together in a tank the Germans used as a raft to cross the sea, where they simply
pulled and pushed it, all the way back to our first stop.
We were stationed by the looks of it, in Estonia. I do not speak the language, but thing didn’t look right.
We were pulled out of the tank and put inside a little giant cabinet, that was hung on top of a spiked floor,
while we, being inclined at to see through the cabinet’s window were met by a giant German. I thought he
was going to eat me. Especially when he opened his mouth and began saying those nasty German words
that I vaguely understood since our language is stolen from them. He was like Goliath, like in David, the
book. But there was no king amongst us, they were in the states, as one knows, all the Kings are, in the
media. I didn’t know what was going to happen to me from that point on. He had a death-camp inside his
gut, and even then I could hear my brothers screaming in agony as they were trashing about his entrails,
putting a tremendous effort into trying to stay alive, for long enough for me to hear that I may one day
write down their stories so they wouldn’t be forgotten. I remember, everything; but I cannot remember
their names, or whether or not they existed at all.
I spent my life doing cruel things to poor people. Those poor people were but dark-skinned Jews I did not
know the fate of was. They were probably spared since the Germans didn’t expect us to actually work, so
it never occurred to them to search the mines to begin with. But then again, the dark-skinned ones aren’t
even real Jews to begin with. I’m going off track, regardless of it.
He was the destroyer, I knew it, ever since I lay eyes on him. He opened his mouth, revealing unnaturally
shaped incisors that had hollow spots inside of them, which spat roped that coiled around our necks,
slowly dragging us and our weakly frail bodies that had been starved for years since they forgot to feed us
and they injected us with starvation on a constant basis, inside the tank that is, I swear, allowing us to slip
through the grates as we were both being suffocated and we were but slowly prepared for the impalement
which was to happen soon after. These coils having but opened the cabinet by being actioned in such a
precise manner as to create a pseudo giant-key just like the one that was used to lock us into the cabinet to
No.184057
begin with. It was blasted, it was vile, I found myself wondering then, what happened to the Jewesses?
What happened to them indeed?
He was a madman and he says, in his language that we understand, as we would understand one another,
even though he’s not one of us.
‘I am great a great German Magician and I will make you disappear.’ He says while his mouth is wide�open and gaping.
He was strangling us with the ropes and while we were in mid air, this thought occurred to me:
There was a constellation of death-camps all over Berlin and every falling star was a death-train in which
the following happened:
‘They killed each man, woman and child, gassing them inside their open-windowed compartments.
German kids threw rocks at the already half cracked windows, which further killed them as they stood in,
waiting for the gas to take effect. It wasn’t instant but they waited, how nice of them to wait, to die.’
This is a real story.
It was clear enough that giant German Magician Hess was but the one responsible for carrying the raft
over from below his kingdom where it would’ve sunken if it weren’t for him and his mighty. This giant
German of the sea, whose might was endless, his blunt forced set; as he carried on his back but little
worn-out black-colored mattresses they were put it as soon as he was tired of strangulating them.
If his belly is the death camps, his back is hospitals. But what does that mean?
What happened to the women?
‘I have died once, for every man that died in this camp.’ And that’s how they count the numbers; a
testimony, from one of the survivors.
Hess had an ability that was actioned by his swastika-shaped irises, which were static, but, upon being
activated, they slightly tilted to a match. It’s as if the entire world was covered in darkness, whereas every
object was darkened as if was painted over in an instant, as if they drawn into a dark void. Slowly, red
swastikas appeared everywhere, spreading about the place, on top of the pseudo-walls that could barely
be made out of in the dark. They began floating, levitating as they made their way across the room, like
strange floating molecules that slowly span.
‘Is this the power of German technology?’
One of the Jews asked, but it was not one tied to the bed, instead, it was another one who was but pulled
out of nowhere, who began floating towards the swastika, splitting him half in an instant, his bloody
being drawn inside the floating device before he was bled to death. Coalstein saw it all.
They arrived at one of the camps within the hour. It was a harsh journey especially with the on-going war,
more than dangerous, beyond dangerous which was beyond relief. They stopped to drink some water. The
beast, Hess had blocked a giant missile which almost came to put an end to their suffering, the allies
started too early. But this Hess was no hero as he only desired to furthermore add to their suffering, as he
No.184058
simply wrestled with the missile, wrapping his arms, spitting ropes as to grip as hard as he could before
the thrusters could hit full throttle. It was a desperate attempt, yet in a moment, his eyes made a little
drawn swastika appear on the missile. And it was then that the main-thrust stopped. It was as if the engine
was suddenly put to rest, given peace, a stop to its suffering, to which he took the time to dig a ditch near
him in order to bury it there. So it would rest forever.
We were at the first stop, in Lithuania, near the border. By then, we’ve been dragged through eighteen
death camps, and every single time, I’m the only one who survived.
There was a man named Shlomo I met.
Around the court, there was a large barbed wired fence. It was tall, it was nasty looking and they put our
teeth-fillings on top their edges, they popped like corn, which could mean that the fence was electrified.
Yet the fences were only powered when I was there, to see it. The guards were indeed sick. They waited
all day for Coalstein to inspect the fence just so they could have their short-lived laugh at him. It was
something that happened pretty often, they say.
‘Prisoner, I want you to come with me. We’re going to put a number on you.’
It was twenty days in. Most men didn’t even live long enough to have a number put on their wrists, they
say that’s how they counted the cattle, in which case, there men whose numbers were printed on the
entirety of their arms, going as far as to have run out of places where they could tattoo those numbers on,
so they came out with an ingenious plan. They asked the Jews to remember those numbers for them, and
the Jews simply complied.
Many days passed and nothing happened, they were just kept in the courtyard doing nothing. Some
German guard simply tossed them a leather ball so they could play around and seeing how the prisoners
couldn’t even kick properly they just had a laugh and called it a day.
What is a death camp?
How were structured?
Judging from one of the plans which were made by the architect, who was a German man by the name of
Warminger Hardenbaff; there were four main parts that made a camp. First was the tents, which looked
like puffy-filled little bricks put on top of one another, which had elevators inside of them, which had
rails and eight-stacked together bed bunks the Jews were put in and carried to their rooms, the device
having received a command-sheet note left on the side of the bunk which would be introduced in the main
elevator panel by one of the guards who was in charge of delivering the people to their rightful place.
There were eighteen elevators inside the tents, which were closer to hangars rather than actual tents,
which explains why the allies bombed them in the first place since they must’ve though that’s where the
Germans hid their ships and their planes. One could understand where the confusion’s coming from. It
was understandable after all. The elevators were worked by peculiar four-put together, band-wrapped
wheels, that were made to constantly reshuffle the bed-bunks together as to furthermore confuse and
prevent any attempt made by the prisoners to fall sleep in there. Inside their rooms as well, something was
clear, even by the time Coalmine was brought to the scene which unfolded in front of his eyes.
No.184059
Below every set of eighteen put together bunkers, there was a trap door with grate-like gaps from which
heat-vapors could be seen as they were slowly being risen up from where they stood. At any moment,
those trap doors could open, swallowing up all of the bunkers which would have the Jews instantly killed,
burnt-alive, turned into ashes before the rails on side sides would pull them back, having had chains
actioned on both sides, which were responsible for lowering and raising the bunkers to begin with. They
looked somewhat similar to medieval bridge lowering devices, or at the very least they showed some
similarities. Yet, it’s to be noted, as there were multiple levels to the tents, that these rectangular stove
pockets were placed in a space between the floor in which the bunkers were in and ceiling that was placed
on the previous level. After being submerged for hours, not even their bones could be seen after, having
been completely incinerated in a matter of minutes. Tens of prisoners being completely annihilated by
these death devices which were but fully loaded with men and boys every ten minutes or so sometimes
the trap doors weren’t even closed, so they simply chucked them in; while the prisoners didn’t even offer
any kind of resistance whatsoever.
Between the space that lead to the full extension of the furnace in which they stood, there appeared to be
large rotating cylinders with blade and spikes on them which had gaps as to avoid damaging the sides of
the bunkers, making their way to the holes as to slice the people who were inside into pieces. These
rotund pillars being placed on rails as well as they were pushed from the other side; which meant there
were Germans inside this secret dark spot between the tents, in which they hid their weapons. Many
prisoners remember hearing distinct shot-noises beneath them, but they thought that it was actually the
prisoners in the other tents that were being put down, not those who were being sliced and burnt to death,
as they thought.
There such devices in the death camp. Many of them were put to use. The Germans created Death�Sailors, which was a term they conceived for the concentration docks. They dressed the Jews like anglers
and made them fish the remains of their incinerated brothers which were delivered from the side of the
tents, out of the metal shafts that spat those corpses out of the furnaces and into the pool where they
cooled down. They had to cool down so they could become indistinguishable from anything else. And
once they were done with it, they would simply be fished out of the water and made to be buried in the
nearest ditch the diggers were put to. Today was dock-duty. He was one of the Death-Sailor, with one of
the most uncanny figures he never thought he might ever see. It was Ezekiel, his lost friend who was there
with him.
‘You look.’
Another testimony:
‘I do not know for how long I’ve been trapped in here. I’ve lost all accountability for my acti, I lost
account of time, despite there being a clock in the cafeteria. I cannot read, I can’t see well; though there
was large lines, I cannot make those lines up, I do not understand. They’re not numerals but I cannot read
numerals either. They are fat, like finger, I think those are fingers; I think they made clocks out of us, it’s
been so long since I ate. I should go ahead and ask for food but only the daring ones go there and ask for
food, I am but afraid to do it. It’s the clock, its constant ticking triggers my neurosis. Before he even knew
it, he started imagining those as being his fingers. That’s how it happened.’
No.184060
They were inside the pool, with the Germans. They were allowed to have some time from time to time
and play around. And the Giant German Hess, he was with them, he was just making giant ripples with
his giant legs. It was strange, yet they found some solace there, as if this was the closest humane thing the
guards did in a long time. Every now and then a corpse would be thrown out of the shaft. Sometimes they
were alive and the highly third-degree burns encompassed Jew simply failed to struggle and dropped at
the bottom of the ravine like a little fat boulder, with a little-big fat bottom lip.
It was time to go to bed.
Young Coalstein was but tucked in nicely then allowed to look around.
One of the most disgustingly horrible scenes unfolded in front of his eyes there. They took a weak-thin
starved prisoner and made him float in the air. His body began contorting in the shape of a swastika, and
then, his body began liquefying as to form the shape of an eye, leaving their symbol as nothing other than
some hollow black spot as that of a patch of black blood which oozed around. This eye-cast then began
floating as it entered Hess’s eye, the disappeared. They spent a lot of time building, making the prisoners
build strange things, like two wagons put together, on top of one another which had leather-like bands on
every side actioned by the wheels. A strange long pole-like cylinder came out of one of them, like a pump
that was just as soon inserted through the other end of one of the prisoners. The upper wagon had a
square-shaped hole drilled on its lower left side, through which another, much fatter cylinder was
connected to the wheels and the band. At the end of which stood a disc that was segmented in weird
triangular slices, whereas in the middle it bore a hole from which a metal hose came out of, pushing into
the lower wagon through one of the holes that was drilled in it as well, this one could barely be seen
though it was there. A second fat cylinder came out of a second square hole that came out of the upper
right side of the lower wagon, around which the metal hose was wrapped around, the cylinder leading to
the pole-like thing that was inserted into one of the prisoners. The rope that was wrapped around the
second cylinder was wrapped in the same way like a cowboy would but catch a fleeing bull, in terms of
not doing anything, something was wrong. Something about this device didn’t make any sense, there was
no point for the hose or the disc or the first cylinder to be there, yet they were put through the motions.
They were made to build their sick-machine that was made to torture and kill them. Could the German,
possibly, be sabotaging themselves?
I knew this would be the death of me, but I had to investigate it nonetheless; so I dressed up like one of
the guards.
The weird thing was that there were extermination camps in every country, in every town, in every
building as well. There were a bunch of extermination camps in a few Synagogues, even before the war
started. How does this even happen?
The memory of the dead people still remains in my mind. I still think of them every now and then,
knowing that there’s no chance I’m ever going to run again over the plains of Zion, in the island where I
was born.
For every dead body came with a price; a fund raiser of some sort, that was traded between the powers.
No one liked them, henceforth the trade. It had to be done, they had to be killed so the Jews could make
No.184061
profits off their own. It wasn’t anything personal, just business. Business between them kikes, it’s how it
is.
There was the day after. A day passed.
‘There’s a few people present here, a few Poles, a few Jews, a few Gypsies, a few Communists, a few
trouble makers, indeed. Everyone’s present, everyone’s doing their fare share. But we all know that
neither of you actually matters since you people don’t actually have any power whatsoever as opposed to
we know who.
So I’m going to make it simple. As simple as I can; you’ve all been brought here for a reason, to be sure.
This project you see here, there’s no, how do I put it? It’s off the charts, you know? There’s just no proof
whatsoever that it existed to begin with, you know?
There’s but, it’s not, we just, look. One day we just woke up out of nowhere with a plan; I looked at my
wife, I woke her up in the middle of the night and I told her, hey. What if we kill the Jews?
And others, but the others? They don’t matter, let’s just focus on the latter, since you know, they ruined
out economy, they’re child molesters, they sacrifice people for their blood libel rituals and what not, well.
How about we just build this camp, you hear, and it will have strange torture devices that there are no
actual patents for because we’re not going to bother applying for any of them and we’ll just make sure
that by the end of the war, we’re going to destroy them completely. Yeah that sound just about right, but
we won’t document everything and we won’t go in detail, leave everything as vague as possible, kill
some hooked nosed fellows, some dumb dirty beggars, criminals, Slavs, Poles and whoever else we want
and then. Well, we’ll just take over the rest of the continent.
Yeah, I think I like the sound of that. And you know what my wife’s reaction was? As soon as she heard
that, she simply slapped me across the face, then left me. It was then that I realized that my plan must
actually be a great one, that I must actually be onto something, and you want to know why? It’s because I
found out that, well she wasn’t actually a Jew, but I found out she was cheating on me. So I simply put
her in one of the camps. Just snuck her in; yes, I did, I did that. I just falsified her birth records so I could
make it seem like her grandmother was a Jew. Then I just chucked her into the stove, I did.
I don’t feel any guilt over what I’ve done, I’ll be honest, I don’t really know much about either one of
your people, but I’m not going to claim that I like you either. I just wanted to kill my wife and this was
the most convenient way to do it. You know, it’s not like I’m claiming that I have a pure soul or anything,
it’s just that, I kind of like doing what I do. I’m not as awful as you people, but, you know.
I’ve been standing out in the sun thinking for a while now, and yeah, it’s been rather great. I just found
out I was actually promoted, could you believe that? I’m actually higher on the SS’, I, a mere boy with
some dreams, who just, who just. Right, I forgot about that, I’m actually, well, you see now, I’m.’
Schopenhauer White considered it for a moment.
It was wholesome, having everyone gathered around the place. They were a strange bunch. It was weird,
it was extremely weird, but he didn’t complain. He had a massive well-chiseled jaw, he had.
No.184062
‘I spent a lot of time making many great devices that were not intended for the purposes they’re being
used for now. You see, I’m only trying to help humanity now. I truly am, I think I’m a good person, I
think I’m not only great, but you know, it is what it is.
I’ve been thinking about something, my poor old lad. Look, I don’t want to keep you standing all day,
especially in this burning arid sun so I’m going to keep it as short as possible before you get a stroke or
something, especially since many of you do look like you’re likely to get one. So, I was thinking about
something, long before the war, you know?
It’s that, hey, I’ve got a baby boy now that I’ll have to look over. And I’m rather afraid of bringing him in
since this is kind of a vile world, you know? It’s nothing against you, since I’ve got no quarrel against
either of you personally, but I simply don’t want my boy get hurt by a bunch of child molesting Jews.
That’s all I’m trying to get at, I want him to live a fulfilling live, in the same way his father had. I don’t
want him to kill his wife necessarily, come to think of it, I may’ve come to regret it, but I simply wish
there was but another way I could take it back, but I can’t. Especially since I was the one who had to bury
her in the first place, maybe I don’t want to have his upbringing lead him in the same place his father was
brought to but.’ He took a slight breather. The crowd was somewhat in-between, they didn’t really know
on which side to be on.
But there in the back Hess was at the very least supportive. And you could never go back on the promise
of killing a woman and taking her of your child. Hess had plenty of experience in that kind of ordeals
since his wife had been a giant German Woman by the name of Hilda.
He never considered this but Hess had been a good friend, he was great. One of the greatest people he’s
ever been acquainted with. It was then that upon bowing to his friend, Hess but grabbed a passing Semite
by the head and squeeze his head right open, like a little melting caramel pop.
‘Hmm, now I see that there’s a great future for me not here in the Fatherland, although I will return and
die here, with my fathers and forefathers and everyone else as I ascend to the greatest homeland of all,
where I will join my gods in the glory of battle when the time comes. But until then, I will, after all help
this world with my superior intellect and superior knowledge and power.
And I shall be joined by you Hess, you will be my companion, the greatest companion there is.’
At that moment it was as if a small swastika but flew through the air, like a little speck of burning-power
which dissipated in the air, like the glory of a short-lived engine that has finally stopped in place.
Life on the other side was great.
Young Hess was born in Germany, and he was a great man, a great person, a giant one nonetheless.
Living in Deutschland was grand for what was worth. He lived in the woods, where he made a water-mill
all by himself. It formed a peculiarly stretching wooden winged bridge that began flapping as soon as it
was released in the air. Life was great, then came the war. It happened over night, from what he could
remember. And before he knew it, he was already enlisted in the fight.
It was bizarre how he wasn’t even given a choice to begin with, yet they’ve already suited him and made
to walk through the tour de France.
No.184063
Him being with the Eagle-Heil Foundation, which was; it was by all means the greatest Foundation that
was ever given life on this planet. For starters there were no Rats that managed to snick in, for the
Foundation had no living members in it, yet, something seemed to be working as well as directing the
mass-production of the guns.
But woe, it had to be said.
Ezekiel was an angel-artifact. Who has been taken from another life, as his true appearance was that of a
peculiarly deformed put-together creature of patches, with many wool and many green threats and
swoons, he had been there. Sent to make sure that the evil beings were but kept under control, not to
move anymore; one day this peculiar artifact woke Coalstein from his sleep. There and dire he
approached.
‘I’ve stumbled upon many things that I do not know, as to look upon creatures like you, whom are not
human, but try acting so. Yet your act is to deceive, I know you’re just like a nigger, within your soul.’
He turned around, oh vile thing it was. He shone in the dark bunker, not as if to know what was going on
there, he had but froze a speck of a heart inside a harpy that appeared out of nowhere, with many eyes,
and an eerie voice, and a chain around her throat, dragged to his hands, as well as he drew forth. This
peculiar angel, revealed a sphere inside his chest. Reality could not keep up with what happened, as it was
but merely put to such grandeur as to bring a test to them.
‘Why have I been tortured for so long? What have I done to deserve this happen to me at last?’
Razminovich but inquired, knowing of the little things that he had but failed to sire.
‘It’s because you vile things have been deceived; and you are not the chosen people, as you’ve lied to
yourselves over more than a few centuries. For your acts and deeds of evil you must be destroyed. For
there is a darkness inside of you that may spread like a cancer and cause such wits to be paranoid, in turn
you shall destroy us all, even the vile angles that groan upon the strange masses of the broken world.
You must be punished and made to suffer for your acts, and until the debt shall be paid ten times forth as
you’ve once asked, then you will be made to suffer continuously until you will have been completely
ruined.
Know this, the future is but ruined and dark.
The plains of Africa and Algiers at that, are but filled with masses of disease, with such gangrene heads of
Niggarous beings, as to be bloated and floated, allowed such flight. As such gestation of their vileness as
to have brought all that which may destroy all; for those mindless creatures that but seek to bring ruin.
And you of all will follow through, mistakenly in search for, alas, something that’s not there, to cast.
You must be made to suffer therefore, as your wretched appearance shall chance and be as decayed, if not
beyond that taint of Nigger-boars.’
At the incline of which the angel had but disappeared, having carried his message forth, alas not to appear
any time soon, not to be found upon such swoon again.
No.184064
He did not know whether or not that was a dream, but one thing was certain, the torture and everything
else that happened was real. He could not forget the pain and death that happened there. How the
Germans invaded the death camps and took them over. Misha’s life got worse from that point on. With
every guard having been replaced by them, there would be no mercy left to spare, there would be no
break, only work, that never ended. They were chained like niggas. Whipped ever by electrical whips,
they were being submerged in the pools which were now electrified as well, only because the Germans
were attempting to reanimate them while they were still being alive. That said a lot about our people,
since at that point in time we were dying of starvation. We were walking corpses. We were dying yet we
continued working. Ever since I arrived at the camps, I have never been fed at all. I have not even
received a piece of bread at all. They didn’t even keep food inside the camp unless they hid it all in the
barracks, but that couldn’t be since at late hours most of the guards left the camps and went back home
after the night-shift came in. It was how the prison-camps worked in some way. All of our letters were
brought and placed in the camp’s post office, which was near the camp’s water tower, which was place
next to the camp’s infirmary that was placed near the camp’s research center that was placed near the dog
den and that was the most dangerous of placed a man could be sent to.
They say whoever goes to the dog-den, they don’t return, they don’t return at all. They trained the dogs
worrisomely so, that they would have their way with woman and man, but not child, they took the
children instead and made ice-sledges out of them and played with them during winter. This thing
stretched for years, I think, eighteen years at the very least. We were deported, we were being aborted,
experimented upon, there was nothing that they didn’t make us do. They knew about our impulses, we
became the dogs. They made us rape our own children just like we were raped by the dogs. There was a
brothel in the death-camp as well. We were made to dress in women’s clothes and danced for the pleasure
of our superiors which were other, far wealthier Jews who managed to fine the guards so they could let
them have their fun. You knew how to differentiate a far wealthy lazy Jew just like you could make the
difference between a Nigger and a Mullatoe, in which case Coalstein was the Nigger, which goes without
saying. It was a weird thing, what happened inside the Camps. One day were put down in the thousands,
and our corpses simply disappeared, while on others the people that were killed and completely
incinerated appeared out of nowhere as if nothing happened at all. How could that be?
Were the Jews so inbred that they simply looked like one another? Or were they brought back to life?
Were they truly incinerated? I didn’t know, how could I? I was a warrior, I was a warrior, I am a survivor,
I’ve seen it all happen. We were mining for oil, actioning their large crane-machines, still there,
peacefully so. It shouldn’t have made much of a difference but this? This gave me a good enough sight of
what happened around the Camp. I saw heaps of bodies put together, and I saw something far worse than
that. It was Hess who had been staring at them for hours, that Giant German whom I’ve never come to
know. And he was placed there for a reason, I didn’t know why. After standing for long enough to get a
good look of the sight I noticed that some of the apparently dead Jews began jerking around, as if they
were some carpel out of water. They weren’t dead, they were merely pretending to be dead. They were
dead soon after, since that butcher simply butchered them. I think there were at least eighteen hundred of
them in that pile alone, and I didn’t know how many of them were alive and how many of them were
actually dead. I think they were all alive, but not any longer since they were butchered by him, violently.
He destroyed their corpses. I don’t know how it happened. It’s as if he opened his mouth to shout but he
hadn’t. It’s as if they were there but they weren’t. How could the ground shake just as he was looking at
them but only that portion of the ground?
No.184065
That felt as if he was in a photo, in a frames shot with the bodies that all of the sudden began being
shaken by someone who was impatient while being in one of those old red lighted rooms, waiting for the
photo to be done, but being incapable of truly waiting for the liquid to drip off. But moved in front of
someone’s face, randomly so that it would look like a weird animation of some kind; and then, they
weren’t there. Their numbers disappeared as well; but not their numbers, which I remembered.
I met Hans during one of the rare days we were allowed to eat, off the floor, off the ground after being
made to crawl like dogs. One of the prisoners there was whipped until he was bloody, until his skin fell
over completely and he couldn’t breathe any longer; he was to be the mean, he was ripped apart and they
made us feed on him, to cannibalize on the man, and devour his organs, and drink his blood, although
there was food on the table neither of us went near it since we were afraid of it being poisoned. We could
not trust them not to poison us after what happened. Even after they left the feeding-room inside the
infirmary where the other prisoners were being taken care of by the Camp-nurses and the Camp-doctors
and the Camp-physicians and the Red Cross was there as well with their volunteers, we didn’t know what
to do.
It happened. They disemboweled my fried with the help of whips they wrapped around his throat, his
legs, his arms, they were horse. Horses brought from the Camp-stables, tied to his limbs, then one of the
guards simply shot above him, startling the horses which ran as far as they could, in the Infirmary and
beyond.
There were days where the fences looked like walls. There were days when the gates were open and we
could simply run away, but it was too late. We were already beaten, mentally they had us. Even while
their watchtowers were empty, we were made to fear. Invisible Germans could be there, watching over
us. I felt one breathing, at the back, of my neck. As I turned out I saw nothing there, only thin air as the
breathing stopped. I was afraid that might happen. Already abandoned by the other rats who most likely
made their way back to one of the Non-invisible guards only to snitch on me so they could have me
punished. That would earn them a few days off the camp. I never saw them afterwards, so I could only
assume that they were killed soon after.
The punishments were the worst things that could happen to a man. Since they did it in the circle, which
was the middle of the camp that was surrounded by every building and everything that was inside the
camp. An ancient gable was there, standing over me. I was put underneath Hess’s giant boot and made to
be crushed underneath him for hours. He could only think of one thing while he was being tortured, what
happened to the women?
Well of course women did as women do in this kind of situations. There were no Interment camps for
them, they called them Impregnation camps, since on the first occasion the women got they just threw off
their clothes and spread their legs for their captors and that’s what they did all day. One could be made to
think that in some way the German Guards had become the Jews, as they were made to work all day
instead of the women. Yes of course everyone knew that the Jews didn’t actually work all day long so the
Germans kind of got the short end of the stick, which goes to show to you can’t win them all. Since they
had to work with what they had, since most of the Jewesses weren’t actual lookers to begin with. Though
a man is a man at the end of the day and a man must do what he had to do for his country and for his
people.
No.184066
‘No woman survived by the end of the war. There was no woman survivor, no female survivor made it
out alive out of the camps, out of any of them, at all. They weren’t even incinerated, they didn’t even
bother. Everyone who says otherwise is a liar.’ – Testimony of a real survivor, who wasn’t a woman.
Rape happened all the time, constantly, without break. Everyone in the camp was shot at least once at the
back of his head in order to test ‘human’ endurance. ‘Human’ endurance was constantly put to test, many
failed and many were instantly killed and lay dead, at least forty five thousand of them.
The Experiments happened afterwards in the Experiment-Quarter which was located from the pool. They
used the electrified body-pool as an electric generator. And the bodies that were dumped in the water by
the docks were no longer fished out and buried since they acted like some sort of conductors the scientists
attached the ultra-wires to in order to extract the electrified atoms from the ground and get the energy
required to store in the second generator they had and the auxiliary one and the made-to do power injector
which kept the entire facility going. It was there that the actually horror started, and it’s clear that every
single account of what happened is true.
It was there that Coalstein met Leah. As she name implies, she was set at the camps not for being a Jew,
but because she was a coal burner, in Germany. That being the greatest affront to humanity any living
being could commit, which was even worse than being a Jewish rat; that being sleeping with a fucking
nigger. That was the first woman he had ever seen in a long time. That was the first woman many of the
man had seen in a longer time, disregarding the homos.
Her life had been much worse, especially since Leah wasn’t her real name, but they had to snick her into
the camps somehow. Everyone had their documents falsified after all, everyone who was sent to the
camps in any case.
With everything said, he felt somewhat attached to her, like every man in this peculiar crib. He was
shaken by her stature, until she opened her mouth and he found out what she was sent there for. He
almost felt bad about what happened to her, especially since some dumb clerk realized that there’s been a
mistake regarding her capture, so they released her one day after. Just like everyone else, he wondered,
why? Why was it that some people could commit the vilest crimes and still get away with it? Certainly
many of the wealthy members of their tribes whom later went on ahead to control the media, banks,
movie industry and everything else connected to the network of population mass control, emigration,
monetary ‘calibration’ as well as anything that was connected to this system of wide-spread nepotism did
get away with molesting and raping children, all the time, without exception, while managing to simply
sweep everything underneath the rug as if it never happened, while also making a profit out of it, but then
again so had many of the poor ones attempted, with little and not as much success as their wealthier
counterparts. And then there’s someone like Leah who hadn’t had to work, was most likely not even
touched by anyone with even the slightest amount of self respect which came in like a flower for no more
than a day, until some lousy beaurocraut realized that they made a mistake and not only put a woman in
an all-man, no-women camp but also a German woman that had no kike-blood in her whatsoever. To top
it all, she was also offered stay in the human-experiment guest room where they put all the political
assailants whom were placed in that booth for their own protection.
And how did Coalstein stumble onto her then? Well there were a few nicely-made, well-crafted,
beauteously wrought foldable chairs that were put near the guest room. She was sitting in one of the
No.184067
chairs while everyone else was standing. As they were given plain instruction that by no means would
they be allowed to sit at all, unless they wanted to be executed, immediately and cold-blooded like a
bunch of dogs, like the ones in the dog-dens that had to be put down constantly because of the rabies
epidemic. That nasty rabies epidemic killed most of the dogs, it sure did. As a matter of fact, the rabies
killed most if not every dog in the dog-den, more dogs having been put down than prisoners. It was clear
that a lot more dogs died off by disease rather than starvation since they were constantly being fed and
whistled to. Also they were trained and they were good dogs, German Shipyards, it went without saying.
It’s the reason why the allies dropped bombs on them, once again, one could understand where this
confusion came from.
Leah was escorted quickly after, out of the premise, where a helicopter was brought to her. No one saw it,
but they figured that it was most likely some other torture device, where they killed the last Jewish
woman that ever lived. They killed in the worst possible manner, they must’ve sliced her into those most
disgusting ways possible, butchered like an animal, worse than that. In the bloodiest way possible; like a
pig, like a dog, like blood-libel; twisted creatures that they were, they were made to made suffer, and
suffer after, to be made for and they did, soon after. Eighteen of those Leahs died, and that eighteen was
owed, since there was the interest, which he had learned from an angel, that was if it truly happened that
way and it wasn’t a dream, in which case thousands of Leahs died that day. While they were in and they
were out.
Human experiments began.
First it was something called the therapy, they put eighteen people on the ground, like planks, then they
flattened them like pancakes with floating wheels that were lowered from the ceiling, worked by
magnetic wall devices. They managed to prolong their suffering by.
‘My grandmother is a Holocaust survivor. She fought the Axe’is with the last of her force. She lived on
the Isle of Zion, when they invaded her small village of Palestine, in which the dark skinned Jews lived,
she was made by them to dig trenches, it was there where they buried the dead. The first ones; the
children they killed.
When they invaded the island, she said. I thought I was done fort, kilt before I stands. They were walking
of pegs, like pirates they did, came out of nowhere for our stolen Jewish treasure they did, with Luger�flintlocks and rape-dogs with ass-tubes in them where they inserted little cylindrical tube-shaped Jew�children, which were inserted into the dogs as aphrodisiacs. We were raped for hours afterwards. I
remember being wet as soon as it happened, long before it happened I was undressed and had already
surrendered. I’m afraid of pain, I am afraid of being hurt, I didn’t know how to react, having lived in a
secluded community with ugly inbred people. Now, I know I’m not a looker, I never fancied myself one,
but then again, I wasn’t looked at for my face, or the size of my nose, but the size of my breasts, which is
what arose the vilest thoughts in the mind men, which I was aware off. So I have forced to put on a show
for them, and I danced, I put a little dance for them just so I could hope they would go easy on me. And I
was afraid that would happen, since I didn’t actually want that at all. It was so confusing, I must say.
Their ship had a black flag with their skull and crossbones on it and I knew, that they were the SS. How
did I know there was such a thing as the SS? I just knew it, I’m an intelligent after all, like all women. It
was my intuition, it was. It’s all documented, it is.’
No.184068
It was a cozy room, yeah, it was nice. Like a clean platform nice. And there were exactly seventeen
people close to me whom were all silent. I made a friend out of Shlomo Viezunstein.
He was my friend for a long enough while, and I think I can speak for all there, we were being tortured,
yes.
Wait, there was something else.
The Chief-Guard of Camp-Security Karl Younger, he was a tall man, with a dark suit that was extremely
great looking. A dark helmet that looked like a pseudo-cranium, with words etched in High-german all
across its rims, he was clean shaved, had blue eyes, wore a few hidden insignias, and was there at all
times, watching over us. He had prepared a speech for us, which delayed our suffering for a few hours at
the very least. We were just done eating, ten minutes ago, and were slightly inebriated as from the cheap
wine that but flowed through our veins, but that only strengthened our memories, which can be proved by
various studies that shall not be references here by any means. Yet they exist, just everything else that
happened here.
‘I see that you woke up early this day, that’s great, I think we’re actually getting somewhere.
I need not warn you about what’s about to happen since I know that you’re not actually going to listen to
anything I say, that’s something I noticed about you people.
You’re not really great at keeping track of things that go over a long enough period of time, so I will keep
the important points brief and hopefully, as we furthermore progress into the secondary parts of my
checklist, hopefully your subconscious mind might somehow go there, as so pick up on the subtle hints I
planted in my speech, and we’ll see what happens I guess. I’ve came up with a great plan and I think
many of you will like it.
It’s a ten year plan, and, settle down now, settle down, that is not to say you’re all going to be staying
with us over the next ten years, some of you will be free to go, will have your work time here repaid for
as well as the overtime some of you Poles had done in be properly repaid, but until then I hope that many
of you will end up accompanying me to the end of my plan, without any resentment or any hard feelings
as there are.
So as I was saying, I was thinking of expanding the camp as to create a few standing factories in order to
stretch over the manufacturing line over the next few years, seeing how this Camp is already turning out
to be so successful as it is, I see no reason why we could simply not just go ahead and increase our
productivity, especially since there’s an endless supply of workers being sent in.
And make sure you all take your notes, and write down whatever there is because I might end up taking
questions at the end of our meeting.
After all, there’s a lot going on in undertaking such an ambitious project as this and I cannot make it
alone; since I was aiming to be done with at the very least two small-sized factories we could build on, in
the next five years or so, at the very least, that’s to say, It’s going to be hard, I’m not being delusional
here, this is going to be mightily complicated since I don’t want to draw the already existing labor from
one point to another and fall behind, but you know, I can only hope we could achieve this much in this
No.184069
short a period of time before we expand. Seeing how the camp will exponentially expand, that means that
in the next five or so years, by the time we will have gotten through the fuselage and have already entered
the next phase, we will have received by then at the very least eight times or even as far as twenty times
the population we currently are in hold of, perhaps even more than that, so things will go on much faster
than before, that’s my point.
In all honesty, the ten years mark is something that’s supposed to be more, as to say, hinging in terms of
being realistic about what I’m working with. Seeing how you don’t make that great of workers, with your
skinny weak arms and poor-man genetics, I don’t expect my project to be done any time soon, so that’s
why I’m aiming for some overtime instead.’
The German Count Otto Von Deutschland was also present in the room. He wore a suit that had a person�like wrap embed on it, as if it had been cut in half and sutured on top of it, but without the sockets. Little
buttons on the empty black eyes. That was Anne Frank. She was skinned alive, and touched by her father
who wrote some weird book about her entitled ‘The Decibellum: An entropy.’
‘I heard she touched herself, well I touch myself.’
Everyone in the room knew who Anne was. She was one of the Goddesses, of the Holocaust and the Jews
killed her, again. There will be no coming back this time around, oh her eyes just opened, I mean her
buttons. One of them popped right off and bounced across the room from one side to another.
‘You’re all going to have to pay for the suit, you know that, right?’
And they scowled at the man nonetheless.
Anne Frank had been with them ever since the very beginning, as she was born in their small village,
prior to the war.
What did she put up her cunt? Her father’s entire fucking arm, a banana, an openly rotating large
peripheral shaped torpedo wing which entered her from every side, I entered her as well, I did.
Life hasn’t been easy for her, she was in an attic, where her parents lived with twenty other men of
various other obscure nationalities and ethnic groups since they were ‘piss-poor’ and couldn’t afford
lending some of their hidden-underneath the floor gold her parents were hoarding. It was a nasty Jew�hovel, a nasty slum they all lived in, day by day Anne but begged to be taken by one of the Germans,
especially since she ‘lived’ closest to one of the windows and the people outside were constantly stopping
to stare at the freak show. Sometimes the freak show became a weird point and pick just like the Red
district it did, whereas the father would sometimes faint selling her daughter to one of the boldest street
passer, at the least ones that weren’t too bold as to start throwing boulder at them which meant that
someone had to pay for the window, then as they were lured it, ones of the darker guests would simply
knob him to the head, as the others would pickpocket the good man. It was a nice racket for a while, but
the Germans were eventually tipped at what was going on and before they knew It, the three of them were
on the streets again, while the tenants were put to jail.
‘I don’t like doing this but seeing how you control the economy, we cannot prosecute you for fraud,
homicide, theft, or any other kind of premeditated crime you may’ve been part off.’
No.184070
‘Then I walk like a free person and I promise you officer that it will not be repeated ever again, I swear it,
on my honor as the Judge I am.’ –Life in Germany, pre-war.
Anne-Father was the first to talk:
‘Do not worry, Anne, I shall do my best to have you taken from the streets and to be properly taken care
of and groomed.’
‘What do you mean by groomed?’
‘Silence, child, I need to make money in order to afford to make off the losses since a wealthier Jews took
all of my hidden assets since he’s the one in control of the police force, him having been my best friend
and partner in crime whom I shared all my secrets with only to find myself backstabbed by him, while
I’m offered no other choice to earn a living since I cannot work a respectably hard-working job, so I have
to force you into prostitution for the time being.’
‘Father, what happened to my sister?’
‘Oh right you had a sister, Margot. I forgot about her. I suppose she’s dead.’
‘How could you say such a horrible thing father?’
‘If she wasn’t there with us when we left, those people we lived in must’ve taken her. In which case, I’m
sorry but Margot.’
‘Here I am, father, I’ve come.’
‘You brought money, I suppose?’
‘No father, I was busy trying to escape this place, I’ve been living on the streets for eighteen months since
you abandoned me, and It’s been a harsh living and I had to live with the Gypsies for a while, selling
copper and other metal scraps I started picking off the junkyards.
And now I’m dressed like them, therefore I’m one of them father and I’m already married or had been
married with ten of them but they were put down by a German Raid.’
‘The Germans, ah; they tried killing you.’
‘No father, they seemed to be capable of differentiating me from one of them, at the very least for the
time they had entered I was already much more well dressed than they were, having been capable of
profiting off them; I bought myself finer silks, some jewels, a few golden rings, a finer mattress, had a
few German workers repaint my room and then.’
‘I’m sorry Margot, slow down. My mind stopped after hearing finer silks, and jewels. What happened to
those?’
‘They were confiscated, father.’
‘Why are you here then?’
No.184071
‘Oh father, but please, can you not be grateful that I survived?’
‘I see your face, daughter, and that is a face that cannot make me money by any means. Therefore I’m
forced by the law of Tallmud to disown you.
You are not my daughter and I hope you die as you’re being cast to Shell, our dark nigger-skinned
version of hell unless you make me some money in which case I shall have you join our family again.’
‘I managed to snuck some coins inside my, pocket.’
And that how they could afford renting a small four by four, for the time being; at the very least, that’s
what they could do, since neither of them could work, except Margot, but she didn’t count as a member of
the family, Anne’s Father took to writing since it was the only thing he was half-decent at; not by any real
means, but he did what he could to earn a living.
Living in Berlin was hard, let alone for a young Jew with a dream, who was also sexually attracted to his
daughter, the good looking one that at times looked like a Turk. SO he spent the little money he had to
buy her, a second-hand Ottoman she could lean against, spending he entire day on it while her father
pretended to be a sketch artist. Instead, he was merely writing the first draft of Anne Frank’s Dairy, milk.
When will they pop? It was peculiar, to say the least. It was the duality of their race. Margot had a nasty�looking butter-face while her breasts were decently shaped, Anne being as flat as a plank while this
nymph was rather well shaped overall. As any man might consider this, he was confused. It was truly a
peculiar, unexplainable thing, whom to have first? Why was life so unfair? He’s spent a lot of hours
imagining both of them like a puzzle or a toy, where you could switch their body parts around in
whichever order you wanted to. Anne’s head on top of Margot’s chest, on top his wife’ belly button, he
really like that, but concluding with Anne’s lower side, which he cherished the moist.
The most, he cherished her the most. He had to snap out of it, before he was caught off day-dreaming
again. But at the same time he just couldn’t stop wasting so many pages of the journal, playing with
shapes, with her shapes. Did she even reach puberty? He didn’t know when girls hit puberty. It could be
twenty, in which case there was still a chance her breasts will start puffing themselves again.
Life was hard inside, in such a poor place. His belle jiffy was a lazy Jewess who never cleaned the place,
unlike German women who were great looking, hard working and knew their place in society while at the
same time they weren’t pushovers and knew when to fight and when to draw back as they were both
traditional and partially modern, despite the paradox they were set in. Anne-mother was lazy nonetheless,
but she had a nice ass, and a big breasts, which were the only thing that mattered to a woman, as they are
generally incapable of doing anything else by their own, case and point. For example:
One day Anne Father and Margot found themselves having a conversation in the kitchen. Of course there
weren’t any walls there at all, nor was there a curtain as they cheapened out with the apartments, having
considered that it would be better to save as much as they could in order to prolong their suffering as
much as he could, since, if there was something even worse than working, it was spending money which
they never had, although his teeth were all filled and he did own an expensive watch, and he did carry a
suitcase with a fine-well suit that appeared to have been brought from some company like Armani he
No.184072
carried on with him at all times, which he cherished and protected more so than he would guard his own
life or that of his family in any case.
But he decided, seeing how things were becoming awkward between his daughter and wife, whom were
having their usual arguments about the most insignificantly-useless thing a female of any kind, original,
metal-congenital distribution could come up with, he decided to entertain something like five minutes of
talk with his daughter, seeing how there was no one else around and she’d been pacing around him like a
retarded little child following a cherry-flavored sugar-coated blazoned lollipop tied around a cat’s behind.
‘Is there something you want to tell me perhaps?’
‘Father, I finally came up with a great plan to finally rescue us from poverty while placing us up back
amongst the likes of aristocracy once and for all.’
Anne-Father but looked at her with coy suspicion. She’s never been a sharp child and there was a hammer
around the house.
His eyes were bulging and his wicked Rat smile almost cut both side of his cheeks; if only Anne was
more like her but less like her so I could touch her. I would lick her really good, nasty little Opera-singer.
He could never afford attending one of Wagner’s Operas since he was too cheap, although he would’ve
most likely hated it since the Ring of the Nibelungs was after all high-art and his nasty Jewish
pretentiousness prevented him from fully appreciating the subtleties of the play, which were at the very
least required to be acknowledged and recognized in order for it to be fully appreciated.
He indulged into entertaining her buffoonery as well as her idiotic ideas.
‘I’m listening.’
‘Well then, seeing how I was clever enough to marry father, you must understand that, it at the very least
means that I am entitled to some kind of inheritance, aren’t I?’
‘From a bunch of Gypsies you were ‘married to’? And that’s supposed to somehow amount to what now?
I don’t understand where you’re going with that Margot, you said they were raided and put down.
Margot, polygamy is illegal in Deutschland.’
‘Indeed it is, father, but we were never married to begin with, it was a ruse.’
‘Margo, I don’t understand. I don’t know what you mean, then, what. Margot, we cannot afford a Jewish
lawyer to get our assets back, let alone our old attic we lived in, may I remind you illegally as we haven’t
owned the rest of the house, by whichever loophole might’ve ordained at the very least a few weeks in.
Although, that could be somehow prolonged indefinitely, we can’t afford one for your nonsense.’
‘But I, there’s something, I had those jewels and those.’
‘Which were confiscated, Margot, gone just like our house and your money, and our people who died
now, who were killed on the streets and dragged across the alleys and shot at the back of their heads.’
‘What?
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They stopped talking.
The darkness that came after lay in the gray-ashen coffin that was Dresden. In what appeared to be the
open crater of a partially blown-off tank, of which hull lay open to the side of the impact stood a long-lost
hero by the name of Adolf Hitler, the last champion of humanity during an age of chaos and damnation.
He stood there, but thinking, reflecting on the war, on the unaccountable losses and of the casualties that
resulted out of facing the entire world, which had unfairly risen against his country and against his brave
people. He stood there with his gun directly at his temple, and finally he pulled the trigger without a
second thought, yet. Although he had closed his eyes, they were now wide open. Standing as if frozenly
in place; as the bullet but grazed his side, and bounced off against the side of his face, he realized that
someone, no, something pushed the tip off his temple. As he turned he realized that it was his right arm
which had ripped itself off his body, and as it floated in the air, he came to the realization that it was not
yet his time to die.
The Flying left arm of Adolf Hitler spoke as it continued levitating in the air:
‘It is not yet your time to die now, Adolf, you must live on and continue your journey for your people,
you must realize by now that the fate of the world rests on your shoulders.’
‘But what could I do now that my country, my people lay in ruin, the allies had won, the world is in their
hands, and they shall bring destruction upon all mankind instead.’
‘Instead of being saved by you, I know that. At the same time you must not forget why I threw off the gun
that could’ve put an end to your life, Adolf.
You must consider the ultimate solution.’
‘You cannot mean that? You can’t possibly mean that, you know very well more than I do, what the
consequences of the final solution are!’
As it happened, the ingenuity of Adolf Hitler never ended, as his genius came up with the ultimate plan of
Jewish extermination, which was the only ethnic group that was killed during the Holocaust. He had
converted the entirety of the continent with is entire landmass into a giant extermination camp with
secretly hidden torture devices and weapons that can only search and kill Jews as well as people with
Jewish sounding names. But wait, that also meant.
‘German lives could be at stake, you need to realize that. Since those Jewish rats stole our names, that
means every pure ethnic German life is at stake and it could be destroyed as well during the wake of the
Final Solution.’
‘The faith of this world rests on your choice, Adolf. One must sacrifice something equivalent to his heart
in order to destroy that of which he loathes most.
Say now, Adolf, are you willing to trade the lives, the history, the culture and everything else that makes
your people your people in order to destroy that, that you hate the most?’
‘That choice alone cannot be made by any man!’
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‘And for that reason it needs to be done by someone beyond human. It needs to be done by you, Adolf.
You have undertaken a grand journey that rests on your shoulders, you must have come to the realization
that eventually you would have to take it.’
‘But I haven’t considered the consequences, I’ve blinded by my hatred that I’ve come jeopardize that
which I love the most, my people.’
‘And for those very own people you must make this hard choice, Adolf.
For you’ve yet to realize the true consequences there are to your action and what they mean for the future
of the mankind if they’re allowed to live from this point on.’
The final solution is a double edged blade. It brings hope yet it brings destruction with it.
‘What will it be then, Adolf? Will you live in shame from this point on? Forever lost and in search of
what could’ve been? Or are you going to take claim of everything and, bring ruin to your enemies at any
cost?’
But that was a choice that’s yet to be made. For, despite him bearing the trigger that would bring
destruction to all, he was in the end indecisive, as the sacrifice came to such a cost that would never be
recovered by any means.
Therefore he was drawn to a still; as a CM to a draw.
‘I’ve killed daughter, several times.’
Said Frank-Father, who stood upon his daughter’s bloody corpse, just as he rested with his tiled back
against the wall; he looked at her with a mightily arousal that had taken place. He considered as much but
never dared approach her now. She’s been standing there for hours, unmoving as if she’s but hooked
entrails, a pig inside a freezer. Nice.
Nicely done, her father things, she’s standing there, she’s awakened by something as if a little bullfrog
riding mice, with a foul mouth thrice, she wakes.
‘What happened?’
‘Daughter, your mother and I are getting a divorce, from reality.’
And that is how she woke up inside the Camp.
A few torture chambers were placed around the main stretch of the Experimental Room. A few human
beings were present there but they weren’t the ones being experimented upon, no.
There was some Mongoloid Tartar taken from the Island of Crime.
Tartars are born on the evil Isle of Crime, where they rape the natives of Russia nonstop, it’s why it’s
called the Isle of Crime, as there are no laws on it; so are no Jews inside of it, since there’s nothing to
exploit, other than the superstitious folk that lives in Crime and poverty. Once, a few hundreds of years
ago, the land was but of a different name, as it was known as the Empire of Khazar-Hazard. It had gotten
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its name from the other peoples who appeared out of nowhere and whose bodies looked like Hazmat
suits, whose mouths were widely open and malefic looking. Who appeared out of nowhere, way before
Kievan Rus, and ate the Jews who desperately attempted exploiting the people of the time. These Hazard
people were at the very least two feet over them and they rode giant horses that trampled just about
everything, be it mules, forests, planes, people, especially people, and they even ate their women, entirely,
within a gulp and they spat them out since they were unwashed and had unkempt nasty raven-dark hair
and they smelled in the worst possible manner, like dead fish and dead bats. Seeing how these nasty
beings were much more superior than the Asiatic folk, the Jewish people, the Turkic people and the other
Nomads that made the Empire, they simply trashed them out, dissolving it in its entirety, while the
Hazard Empire took over, there being no trace of it left whatsoever, other than the fame Isle of Crime.
It was an awful place to live in, worse than most African countries, and the Near Eastern ones, worst than
living in Russia or in Eastern Europe. Were there even humans inside that country? No.
There were only Tartars, which were born in such a way:
The Hazards were a peculiar people had held supreme power over the lands and over the world. They had
a unique ability which allowed them to piss out what they ate. Their liquefied strands were but mixed
together only to give birth to primeval humanoids, which were a hodgepodge of the many races they had
eaten during their time spend amongst the Khazars.
It is important to note that the Khazars survived for a long enough period of time for the inception of the
Tartars to occur, therefore they were but given a chance to somehow make amends with their past
mistakes. But seeing how many of them were members of the tribe, they succumbed to their evil, tried
exploiting the Mongoloids, got kicked out, mixed with the other people, then they formed a mongrellic
race that would later exploit and destroy the countries they invaded and were put in, ‘s economies.
Not even the Russians want to deal with the Island of Crime for obvious reasons. But speaking of it is
useless, and morose.
For there is something in the very ground of it which had been fed over a long enough period of blood by
a combination of Tartar slaughter and Semite blood libel, the blood of which but kept them living, even to
this day. There, hundreds, thousands of the Hazards lay living, in a land that’s rotten. Dormant yet eternal,
the blood not but keeping them alive-alive but rather partially awake as to record the passing of the time
which in turn allowed them to grow in power and in might. Their dreams were no mere lousy things, as
they were but creating, shaping and redistributing matter such as the likes of man has never seen before.
They brought a mere gangrene destruction with them, as they followed through with their inventions.
During nights of woeful sleep where they would but reshape the stars, out there in the sky one could see
the satiations of broken cars, buildings and things that rose from time to time, brought by them into the air
and then defiled. They were but dreamed off as well, and seen as if they were projections and messed
with as they were made to appear everywhere, on anything even the likes of a child would look at, despite
his wonder, what were they? The Hazards no longer rose, they were like poison but solid and everything
they touched but foamed and fell, and choked to death, life could not survive alongside them.
The Tartars indeed had learned from a young age that they themselves were not immune, merely sturdy
enough to completely adhere to this never ending poison which threatened to devour them, almost
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completely to a point where they would’ve died otherwise. That they would be completely devoured and
left to rot with the rest of the dead-worms and scarabs that adorned the ground like jeweled relics that
were not touched by man. They purposefully cut the soles of their feet as to quench the thirst that was
required by the dead-heap that lay beneath them. From as far away as they could reach, they had adopted
the rituals of blood libel as their own, only to go as far as they could and claim what was rightfully theirs,
and keep it as their own. As for the land, without the constant influx of sacrifice, there would be no way
for it to endure.
‘The sacrificial blades are to be brought at the hour of Eastern Solstice.’
It came to be brought much sooner in the wilds.
A land lay there, emptied as if awaited for something to be risen. A mild soundless wind had traveled
forth from the South, from the East, From the North and from the West. It brought much unrest to the
people who had gathered around the sacrificial stones, who were but already over-wrought by their
Shamanistic practices, which governed over their souls. Many wore tribalistic markings around their faces
as well as little cuts they had made themselves. Some were wearing mightily concocted things of their
own making, like little stringed beads of throne-mast, from the chipped fall through of a fallen plane
which had arrived. Neither of the pilots survived the crash, yet they had already but got rid of the bodies,
having brought their helmets and their apparel as offerings for their chieftain whom but spoke to the land
itself.
His eyes were but bent backwardly, set as to look out of their way, to be fully extended as to convey the
message come to him, flown through by the Hazards themselves before the times of war flew through.
‘I am listening, masters, lords, makers of our kind, we, your servants have gathered forth.’
And as if a great crate shaped out of light appeared above them; flashing with a jade-like pattern from
which the likes of a strange creature broke through the very edges of the crate. It spoke to them in the
most peculiar fashion. It but wrought them to ask, to make and lay and put aside whatever they held an
listen as they had.
‘My creations, my pitiful things I have aided towards making of blood and entrails of many men I’ve
eaten while I had been alive. I’ve summoned you within reason for the call and promise that you may
obey. That you may leave the Isles of Crime this very night and make your way to the Farther lands that
you may stumble upon the likes of man, that you may claim as many lives as you can in our names, for
we reek of stench, this land of wretch may not be able to house you no longer. Within a generation forth
you shall die.
But alas, there is hope that you may bring forth your descendants, from as far as farther lands, where lay.
Many of them shall be brought forth to stay, and to the future of your days, where there might be, only a
handful of you shall survive as far to see it happen.’
‘And what of our tribes and what of whom had settled to blind us for such kindness as you’re offering
us?’
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‘You shall settle down with what you’re given and nothing more, you shall bring forth no predecessor as
those might be called.
But you may still turn to those whom fights, might swallow through as to a sight as you’ve come to press
against. Leave this place and don’t return until you’ve brought forth what we asked you for.’
And since that moment they but rode, as far as they could go, without stopping, as for the war; it barely
started.
‘I fucked Judea in the ass.’
‘That’s right, brother, that’s what I’ve been saying.’
‘I know, I did her good, haven’t I?
Let me tell you something, her brother just sold her to me.’
‘That’s insane, he did?’
‘Of course he did, sold her right up, extremely cheap. If I had it my way, I bet I would’ve ended up with
his mother as well.’
‘That’s sick.’
‘You don’t know the half of it.’
‘What else?’
‘I brought her hope, then I made her get on her knees and I.’
‘General!’
Every man in the Infantry got up. Especially Donnahue who was present there for the time being, a
rifleman who wore twenty carbines strapped to his back, eight revolvers and a rocket launcher; while
some of the men were armed with flame throwers, missile sling shots, acid sprays, gas-bombs with
pressure resolvers attached to them, as in they had like twenty one shot capable off revolvers attached to
every side of the bomb that spread both mustard gas and shot the bullets in every possible direction the
bomb was thrown in. One of them had a boomerang blade with exploding bullets made out of fists he
carried on with him as well as strange rocket-shield that exploded upon being touched. But they survived
for long enough to hear the General begin talking.
‘Get up men, straight your back, I will have order even if this is the last thing I have to do, do you hear?
Johnny Parkstench, Oddwax Charlatan, George Praire, and Alpha-Ox, you are to be dispatched
immediately to aid the Germans as to drop bombs on their camps.’
‘How is that going to aid them, sir?’
‘You will not question my authority and the sigil of the United States, you will die for whoever I tell you
to, because I am the Government.
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And if there’s an institution that’s even stronger than human beings, niggers or Semites, it’s the
Government, boys.
I think we can all agree that killing people, hey; fair game is fair game, if you understand what I’m
saying. We must kill as.
We must rinse Dresden to the ground.’
‘Why, sir?’
‘Because there are Semites inside the very ground, they grow from ashes, they grow inside their own dead
people. Follow me and you will understand.’
They all brought to a surgery room. There was an ugly looking Semite man on the table.
The doctor waited for him to act, they both nodded to one another, so that he might proceed.
As soon as the surgery began, the men were immediately repelled by what they saw. It was horrible. But
in every dark creature there were eight or ten at the very least, ten little maggot-kikes hiding inside of
him, squirming around, wriggling as to grab whatever body part they could still sell off to the black
market. They were nastily pale, deformed, disgusting, repulsive as such, they held no pulse, they were all
chewing on foreskin, since they were all but taken from the insides of a split-open Rabbi. It made sense
why for every dead Semite, forty of them emerged, and those things being incinerated meant that a
hundred more of them died at the very least.
‘You see now, the Germans are unaware of it yet. But their land is infested with these little sub-human
parasites. First they ate their economy, weakening their force, and now they’re sucking dry their ranches
and now they’re destroying their agriculture, which in turn ends up destroying their hopes that they might
be able to save their economy somehow.’
It was known by every man. The inflation turned German bread into German tanks since they had the
same price.
So every German boy, as clever as they are, which may be a reason why Adolf decided to enlist them in
the army; instead of buying bread, they bought tanks since they were the same price.
And they destroyed everything. They were running down cars and people, and shooting down buildings
and they were but unstoppable. They went on a rampage.
‘Ini mini miney mo, crack a woman I should do. Split her open in between;’ Couldn’t finish it, her head
was been, and flew right, like a Champagne bottle, through the window, then within. One of the Jewesses
passing through was but gritted in, her head but split by many shards, her glassy-beads were but gone.
What a strange thing it was. One day she was walking down the streets, cheerio and happy as for a
beautiful day it was. Then a tank appeared out of nowhere and walked over her, no trampling. Good boy.
Seeing how the kids prove themselves too much to handle, the country is left with no other choice to fix
the economy other than to invade another country, so Deutschland then invades Poland. There sure are a
lot of Ethnic Polish people with Jewish names living there, or so says the raccoons.
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And every raccoon is taken care of; of everything that happened.
The economy is trash, the rats are maggots and all of them but take what they can out of it. The Raccoons
are but left in charge of fixing everything.
Enough of it; dark things that they were, as wretched as they but appeared everywhere they could see.
It was the first sign of death, one of the many dark points where actual heaps were put in, where graves
were struck outside, where the very living appeared to be molded out of the ground and put to waste. It
was the death of dreams, of fantasies, and of every living thing on a battlefield where Poland met the
Deutsch, where field of rancor but spread in both direction, and valiant men but forced to retreat in
whichever possible direction they could end up riding through.
The skies were reddened, green, yellowed as the mustard gas, it spread throughout the ground, whereas
Polish-like Cossacks but came soon after.
Twenty paratroopers bombing the jut off the corners of the world; children yet to be employed, the many
markings of the ancient Polish groves but fallen through; little more than a few million rockets were but
blasted through the land, as the Deutsch was but desperate to claim what wasn’t theirs. It was the death of
both kinds which but made the very blood of the paratroopers stop in place before retreat. From the many
lands below the heaps, and from wherever other place one could see, the dead men rising but to pick a
gun, from the darkest recesses, beyond the ground and into the crypt some fell; before their time was
done, many other men had followed, not to allow others to come as well. As there were medics just about
each corner of the first line they made.
Twenty eight formations pacing back and forth, readying themselves as more men joined. Then came the
first Blitzkriegs, giant floating pulsating watchtowers with their known-for sigils, little Tottemkephths,
giant metal skulls opened and blasted the land in front of them, charging power atoms that linked together
and completely obliterated everything in front of them as they created super-rays of destruction that
manifested giant moon-shapes of energy that dipped into the very ground, creating giant moon-crates all
across the land. The Blitzkriegs then put themselves on top of one another, crisscrossing their beams and
their rays into strange rotating wheels of energy that had eyes and mouths on them which darkened as for
what the energy looked like, creating reality rips inside of them which bore magnetic pulls which drew in
the brave Polish men who were instantly vaporized by the complete show of power and domination the
superior technology displayed. Electrical spikes, spears, javelins, knives and power-blow-torch satchels
were thrown and launched soon after from the wheels of destruction, completely destroying everything in
sight as they were but actioned from the distanced and homed heat signatures like homing missiles,
leaving glowing Polish man-shaped cask death-masks floating in the air after they were destroyed, which
exist to this very day there as a reminder of their bravery as they fought for their nation. Entire fields were
filled with the death-masks.
Power grills appeared in the sky as they were burning through clouds and through the very oxygen atoms
that were kept around, imploding into peculiar sights from beyond the world as the very fabric of reality
was being broken into pieces by the Blitzkriegs, which appeared to have formed a dark power shield
around them with many human shapes that floated inside of it as their souls, and the souls of those who
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died in agony as they were being killed by these great machines of destruction were but screaming and
begging to be released.
But Poland pulled out its secret weapons, their Seven TP which was a code word for how long it took for
it to disappear from sight and reappear wherever the drivers willed them to.
All of the sudden the entire battlefield was filled with Seven TP’s which warped out of nowhere, and
before the Germans could hide away their shock and excitements they were but blasted over like thunder�busters that shot out of nowhere, curving the ground as the shots began ricocheting everywhere they could
land, bouncing around the people and their weaker thanks, then immediately disappeared as they
teleported out of the way before the moon-shaped atoms could be brought to full force, then they
appeared behind the Blitzkriegs and unloaded however much they could, trying to blast them down and
destroy them completely but their power-shields were too much to take, and they were then blowing
trades as the giant death watchtowers were but unleashing as many rays of energy as they could. Trading
and lacerating the very land as they were but bringing millions of beams out of their power shields,
spraying and praying before the TP’s disappeared again.
And then the light tanks were floating there in the air, having made a peculiar maneuver with which they
were but flipped around like a plane could, facing the very ground as well as the top of the death-towers,
when they began their onslaught again.
The fields no longer had living men troops which both began fleeing in both directions as the destruction
was too much to take on either side. When all of the sudden the Tartars emerged, like a bunch of
cutthroats, out of nowhere they appeared to be riding a giant Hazard head which shot long red-blackened
in the middle hose-shaped beams that contorted and rotated like worms but were plastic and elastic and
rubbery despite the fact that they were made out of pure energy which wrapped around the Blitzkriegs,
and attempted to wrap around some of the lowest hanging TP’s which immediately disappeared out of
sight.
And out of nowhere the allies started dropping bombs but they appeared too soon, while they dropped
hundreds and thousands of bombs at once, all of them but missing all of the floating tanks which popped
in and out of existence, and the giant helmet which was too sturdy, while being completely useless against
the power-shield surroundings the Krieg; then they accidentally dropped a concentration camp which
smashed against it as well and there was another Holocaust that happened over, then they stopped and
everyone went their own way.
That was the end of the first battle over Poland. So far there’s only been a draw.
But followed after was a draw in blood, as not in libel; much worse.
Ten days passed, and it looked it a stand-still, all across the continent. Nothing happened.
It was nineteen forty five, in Belgium, but in the rest of the world, only in Belgium could such a thing
happen. It was clear enough what had happened on the streets, this was a result of the Judaic-disease
being allowed to spread, uncontrollably so. It was horrible, nasty, contorted, deformed. They made
mockery of architecture by putting bubbles on top of Gothic Chapels, then painted it green, and yellow
and scrawled on top of it like a child, and then they spat on, with period blood and called it women’s
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rights. They made men wear dresses, and fucked their kids, the Jews did. And called it art. Comedy
macabre in some way, as in they killed them after, the kids did. The kids rose up and killed the Jews.
Good riddance they yelled and shouted soon after. With rocks and fire they burned them and bled the
Semites, and put them in garages. And for their acts of bravery, ever since, kids are allowed to purchase
guns in Belgium, so that they may never be killed or done by no crooked hooked nosed evil man ever
again.
Everything that happened so far during the war happened over the course of a single day.
Second day, in one of the conversation camps; fewer and fewer days until the great coming of the
conversion camps, when they’re to be freed from all pain and all that is impure.
‘Misha, do you know why I called you here, boy?’
‘I don’t know, why?’
‘What do you think about this?’
Has but pointed at the pool. It was where the baptism happened. Their rite of passage into the next world,
so their spirits would stop being evil. For god was lightning and thunder struck.
‘Boy, do you want why this happened?’
‘No, why?’
‘I.’
‘Do you want to know why this all happened?’
‘Go on.’
‘It started one hundred fifty five years ago, six.’
‘What was that?’
‘Just, nothing, I just have to remember the number six.’
‘I will remember the number six then, what does it mean?’
‘Nothing, it means nothing, I simply like the number, now stop interrupting me before I stab you.’
It all started a few hundreds of years ago, two hundred at the very least, where a man by the name of Karl
Marx was born to a family of butchers that goes without saying what they killed. There weren’t animals
where they lived. Enough with sophistries; he was simple man of book, who grew up in a peculiar family
of high-beaked humanoids that were but trying to study the secrets of the arcane, drawn from the book of
evil, that was the Tallmud.
This book of vileness was ancient, dating to the times of Babylon, where their ancestors, a group of
weirdly swarthy people with even higher beaks had contorted their even more ancient beliefs as to fit their
own wrong-doings as to earn themselves easier lives at the cost of other people’s livelihoods, unknown to
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them that this peculiar set of beliefs would actually guide their ‘evolution’ in the worst possible manner
there is. By adhering to such peculiar set of beliefs, they had created an evil code that contorted their
minds and bodies, creating a sociopathic people whose bloated minds seem to devour everything in their
paths while at the same time twisting in the most peculiarly unfathomable ways there are. For a man saw
beauty in a stone, one of these evil creatures saw to exploit the man instead of joining him in the
admiration of the stone.
It was beautiful stone, not because it was a stone. But because what the man saw in that stone; as the man
saw himself in that stone, which in turn made him sculpt and create beauty ever-lasting, at least for a short
period of time in any case. As nothing lasts other than the illusion of eternity and what comes after it.
These evil beings found a way to modify themselves, in the same manner a surgeon would cut a piece of
cancer, they but managed to create it, to spread it and have it even further grow; not entirely the same
thing, in principle.
Regardless of it, they had seen themselves as gods that were beyond the likes of common men whom they
saw fit to abuse, whip, to sell to other nations, to constantly betray, backstab, opening the gates for the
Moors in Spain, having their Radhanites sell white women to evil folk that would rape them, to have
killed children over various centuries, to have brought the Bubonic plague upon the likes man amongst a
never ending list that stands as a testimony to their mischievous nature. All of this being a cause of their
embed sick mind which was both a cause of their evil book which affected their genetics, as well as the
other way around, being predisposed to their peculiarly deformed ways.
One of their descendants was a fat man dressed in black, with an unkempt face and beard by the name of
Karl Marx, who recognized a problem in the world, that being, it wasn’t exploitable enough by his
people, as said his Rule of Conducts, the Tallmud; yet he was incapable of coming up with something on
his own, until one day, where he was met by a strange figure.
Theirs was a strange people as well, yet in a different manner, a strange people indeed that came out of
nowhere, who simply popped into existence, dressed in animal fur, and weird Gothic armor of their own
design, they would later be known as the Germanics. As strange as they were, they were also strong in
might, as they defeated the various nations and kept their land from being taken over, over the Rhine
where they had ruled since forever, the beginning of time, even before the Homosapiens came to life, they
were there.
And even before there was such a thing as recognizable technology, they were there, making it. Such was
their way, that they had sacked the Anglo Saxons, the Romans, the English people before they were
English, even before them, during such times when they were Vikings, they sacked everyone, every
single day, the Russians, the Greeks, every single nation of this world has been sacked by the Germanic
people at the very least once. And when their economy died one day in the future, they did the only thing
they knew best, they sacked another nation of their valuables, but they did that with pride and without
shame, and that excuses it, by all acceptable means.
They built great architectural wonders as well, as they were but the inventors of high art, literature, and
although they fell behind in other fields, they still managed to keep up the traction until they became a
great nation.
No.184083
Engels was such a man that came out of a great line of German kids; and as one lures a kid by the promise
of something sweet, so did Marx get a hold on little Engels, whom would come to help him in his time of
need.
For their union created one of the Ten Black Books of Death, the first one being the Communist
Manifesto, which was simply put the modernization of the Tallmud.
‘Which in turn brings us to this day and what caused the war to begin with.’
It was the impact of the first Black Book of Death, of which initial great insertion reddened the plains of
the Russian Empire as to drown it in blood.
‘It was carried over by unnatural dreams.
One dark stormy night, a great evil specter conjurer by the name of Lenin divined the book and its
contents in his mind. And in his womb stood a greater evil by the name of Lenin.’
‘Stalin.’
‘I see that you’re aware of your people’s history and the reason you’ve been brought there Misha.’
The Isle of Zion was given birth by a simple network of many pipes that was widely spread and hidden in
every sewer there was across the continent as well as it bordered the Asiatic lands as well. In order for it
to be given birth, a great blood sacrifice had to be made.
‘Millions of people had to be killed over countless generations, you see?
For that very Island you were born in couldn’t have existed otherwise, without the intervention of your
greatest assets you could’ve stumbled upon.’
‘Which is?’
‘Why, isn’t it obvious? The people, the non-kikes who did the heavy lifting for you, their only crime
being, as gullible as they were, trusting you in the first place; for that reason, for that very peculiar reason
you are standing here today.
Because of a legacy tainted with blood.
Because beneath the island you’re standing on there’s but a clotted growth of coagulated blood and pipes
that’s been wrought out of innumerable deaths that have been committed by your people across centuries
of control, manipulation and exploitations, that is why you’re here. Because that evil Island still stands in
there, while every other place is made to decay. Isn’t that clear enough for you?’
As the Conjurer but wrought a deadly revolution that brought the deaths of millions of people. As the
countless attempts to emancipate the people ended up, nearly so in the destruction of the benefactors, time
and time again, without exception.
‘And that which is connected with the tip of the blood Ice-berg, is but still here, below the ground, still
rotting us to this day, as well to the future ones.
No.184084
The pipes still clog the continent, they still require blood, and that is something we cannot give any
longer, you understand where I’m going, right? It’s nothing personal, but there’s a blood debt you’re not
willing to acknowledge and that is something that cannot be forgiven, by any man.
One eye for one eye, one tooth for one tooth, as the Babylonians used to say, nothing more, nothing less,
no interest. As much as a man deserves.’
Misha never remembered what the man told him, but he most definitely threatened to kill his family, from
what he understood. He also remembered the number twelve, the man had told him.
It was settled, he would escape the camps one way or another and live on the streets for a while and make
his way to the promised land, the United States of America where his people lived and did the nastiest
things they could come up with, like give women rights and allowing his people in the Congress, both of
which were things that no sane person would adhere to, but then again, it was something he had no say
into.
‘There was a lot of work going on, from what I remember.
They asked me undress as to not get my clothes all muddy and wretched.’
‘How were you captured sir?’
‘I? Well I was a worker in the Soviet Union’s great Railway. I did my job as best as I could and I never
asked questions.’
‘At what moment did you realize that there was no way out and you were about to get captures? Describe
the scene to me.’
‘I think it happened, out of nowhere. I woke up one day in my bed, inside one of the wagons, as we were
asked to sleep at our workplace, you know, to make everything right when was needed. And I simply just
got up to find myself surrounded by eighty men, all dressed in military attire. They looked rather vaguely
annoyed, like the people are, you know what they look like?’
‘I’ve had the pleasure of being acquainted with a few of them at the very least.
But tell me, is there a reason why a railway worker finds himself surrounded by so many of these men
from the opposite side?’
‘I’ll admit that I was just as confused at first, but it all started coming back in after being placed into one
of their trains.’
‘One of their trains?’
‘They carried one from their home.’
‘Home?’
‘They lived in a barrack that was set on rails, in the middle of which there was a small depression on top
of which they put the train in.’
No.184085
‘It was one of their steam engine ones, right?’
‘One of the dark ones, indeed it was. But it was strange, they didn’t talk at all, and for some reason their
mouths were sutured in place.’
‘What do you mean in place?’
‘They were falling over as if they were constantly melting, and they would take constant breaks from
breathing, as I could see an end to their breaths.
They kept pulling on those black threads in order to put them back in place. And they were pale, like dead
soldiers, who were listening to me sleep. I remember when I first saw them.
I lied, I think I did. I think, I hope it doesn’t bother you that.’
‘It’s all right if you’re having trouble going through it, I’m listening.’
‘They appeared in my dreams first, I thought, until I’ve come to the realization that they were there with
me, throughout the night, and they haven’t even moved or touched upon a thread while I saw queer eyed
and slit open.’
‘Why were they there?’
‘I don’t understand why, their train was rotten and fell apart, I think they made it along the way.
Everything in that barrack seemed to be falling apart with them holding on the falling debris and on every
other piece that came along and almost fell through.
And they were silent, at all times. Standing still, without breathing, without blinking; always there, trying
to have their way with.’
‘What?’
‘I think there was a figure they were chasing, I don’t know what gave me this impression, or why she was
there, running in the distance. But they were pulled towards that dark outline, which was running in the
snow.
We were drawn along as if we were in a couch, a long time ago, but I have no recollection of what drew
me to that point or why it happened to begin with or.’
‘Why you woke up with your missing joint.’
Ivan simply drew back his leg-curtains, there were horrible scratch marks jutted about the place.
Yet the bodies of those captors themselves began falling apart with everything else.
‘You were released along the way, from what I come to understand.’
‘And I followed the figure soon after.’
It was a hard walk.
No.184086
There was a sniper hidden in the cold.
Ivan turned around and looked at his captors’ barracks. It bore a few empty hollows inside of it, long
shots that went as they came without leaving a trace of even having come there. Of even having been shot
in the first place. This was a mine field, but the mines weren’t buried in the soil.
Well beyond him and into one of the fronts.
There stood a single man by the name of Schopenhauer White, in a tiny café that stood by some middle�streets, where he stood in, drinking out of a cup of coffee.
It was the Weimar Republic, and it was a mess, he remembered what it had been even before the war
started. He was an old man after all, too wearied out to take it, to see the youth changed in such a manner.
It happened during one of the nights.
There was a group of youth that broke through some window and began stealing from a thrift shop, then
they went ahead and stole a few orphans as well, taking them as a requirement for the party they were
supposedly invited to. That lousy-nasty thing was horrible to foresee. Languid in some piteous manner;
cars had their tires taken and replaced with weird discs the women drew weird lipstick faces. At first
White thought the message was right, since he had seen the words written on it ‘Fuck niggers’ until he
finally drew near and realized there was an ‘I’ before it. He rushed to it, but he couldn’t tear it out,
because his sight was almost drawn away. A few feet from where he stood there was an open dumpster
with a body in it. A woman’s body lay rotting in with, and within her open hand there was a partially
unrolled lipstick that all of the sudden fell out of her hand, then bounced against the ground a few times,
then it rolled towards him. He picked it up for a moment before he stopped and turned around. There were
a few officers who had been waiting for him who immediately turned from him to the car-tires, then back
at him, pulling out their batons before proceeding to beat him relentlessly, leaving him bloodied next to
the car he had vandalized; but all of the sudden, all four of the officers stopped, quickly having turned
towards the general direction where the body was. As soon as they noticed it, they but pulled him up and
shook him off his feet.
‘I must apologize sir, I have not realized. We thought you were part of the contagion.’
‘What contagion is there?’
‘You did not know yet? They didn’t tell you? Shh, we’re being watched.’
A long legged as it its head reached one of the high-lamps in height creature that was dressed in a
woman’s dress with a largely deformed elongated face like that disc or weird cotton trampoline shaped
disc with a pseudo-female face peeked out of the corner. It had cut-outs through which one could see a
pair of humanoid eyes. Its hands were lichen, wrapped around a child, or some ballerina-dressed dwarf it
held within its gasp.
‘That contagion, it’s something you must if you’re a new comer. This Republic is damned, is damned.’
‘You must leave while there’s still time to return, before you catch the virus.’
No.184087
The trenches were already dug, there were flies around, and weird colors that occupied every building
that stood in place.
Beneath the tall creature stood a few, even shorter than the dwarves, Semites. Which were much shorter,
like garden gnomes, all dark, but their noses were the size of his feet, and their eyes bulged as if they had
gotten rabies from somewhere. They knew what the officers would do to them.
‘You must be sanitized immediately before the change takes place, remember, it only takes a few hours
for it to happen and if it does.’
‘We have children, you understand?’
‘Of course.’
He was taken by the Officers and put in a pseudo-laboratory room they built inside their van. Every few
minutes or so they looked over their shoulders, in order to make sure they weren’t being followed, there
was still hope that this infection could somehow still be prevented before it fully spread. Various
measures for precaution had already been taken, but that was not enough. Surgical apparatuses as well as
mechanically altered hands taken from some of the bodies were put to great use. White looked around the
room; he noticed the hand written notes, expressing people’s desire to further aid the project even in their
death. This level of devotion was somewhat frightening yet understandable. They were working non-stop.
He was given eighteen shots at the very least, out of a weird mixing plate that had a few fluid-filled vials
of different colors that were put together in different combinations before he was administered each shot.
There was another peculiar set of devices which were used for blood drawing, sealing, then tube�replacement that just as soon was stored in one of the secret compartments inside the van. His eyes were
scanned by a reddish blue light which appeared to form a weird light representation in front of him which
began slowly constructing a few models of his ancestors as they once stood in his place. After the
machine was done scanning, they were inserted in a database on a screen which immediately recognized
his name, displaying not only a photo of him but a life-like representation as if it were some simulation. A
second actual living descendant was created and put in front of him as if he was actually there. This
reconstruction attempted to begin talking but it reconsidered. It spoke in a perfect accent and merely
wrapped his hand around the man’s shoulder before he nodded. A note of pride was changed between the
two men before the figure disappeared. He shed no tear and they were already entered into one of the
complex scientific-contagion zones where the other side of the Republic already proceeded to isolate the
elderly, the unaffected youth, the people and some of the foreigners during what appeared to be one of the
longest night the world had to suffer.
Everyone was either severely frightened or rather quaky and uneasy.
Meanwhile outside was worse, the part of the Republic which was infested appeared to be a complete
organic thing of its own, having spread over the cars, among the ‘citizens’, the buildings themselves, the
patches of sky which was in their proximity, having grown peculiar growths around the edges which
forced the entire area to slightly emulated a flight, as it rose from where it stood, ever so slightly as a few
meters off the ground, not in flight only a step’ wise.
It wasn’t safe approaching them, since they had already gathered inside the building, in small rooms,
where the tallest ones already spread across the corners like growths, their heads in place of the ceiling-
No.184088
lamps, their legs growths across the floors, their arms extended like swings, in which they were but
wrapped round the orphans; they stuffed them with something, forced them to take shots, while the little
dark things but leaped at them, having only reached this far for the soles of their toes before the orphans
were being lifted from them. Up and away, down and away, not even close before the rabbits had their
way.
‘They snuck the niggers in the Republic, and the monkeys destroyed.’
Far from the front there was this.
Their side and that which was ours; two giant formidable stretches that met like forces that opposed one
another desperately as one attempted to prevent the spread of the other, while the other desperately
attempted to get inside of it. Yet there was problem, since people were put into the contagion-prevention
center, there was no way for the disease to spread since it needed the people in the first place in order to
corrupt. It was supposed to be a stalemate, until they deployed the niggers. As they were sent and only
receded to their natural behavior as they began destroying and stealing what they could from as many
abandoned houses as there were. These niggers were their frontier-men, in an army of freak shows who
would not lift a finger to help.
Assuredly so, Weimar’s poisoned what Weimar could, and since there were no fresh subject and since the
niggers took what they could and ran away; expectedly so, as they left their children behind; the people of
the Republic began poisoning one another, in the worst possible manner.
It was then that the first official butcherment of a man happened. Although it is widely known that eunuch
existed long before it happened, especially the nigger slaves who would be castrated and made to lay in
pits of burning sand for hours, being only given water every now and then, violently so with knives, a
practice of the Turks, Arabs, Berbers, Africans and whichever other tribe enslaved them, this was the first
time they called a eunuch a woman. Not officially as such practices of calling one that could be traced
back to ancient Egypt and well beyond, yet this was the modernization of the practice. And this had only
been the beginning of the end. They butchered people and called it science; yet as opposed to having
useful practices to these procedures, these didn’t.
‘What is this made for?’
‘I don’t know, we obtained nothing of value from this procedure.’
‘Then why are we doing it?’
‘Money!’
And for that reason, the world is corrupt.
The contagion kept spreading, wriggling its malformed arms all around the place, everywhere where it
could spread, doing the nastiest of practices, the most volatile acts of destruction that could poison the air,
and in the filth that began evaporation on top of their side of their Republic, through the gaseous vapors
that were released in the air, one could see the tendrils of a great dark creature with a peculiar humanoid
nose rearing its ugly head in.
No.184089
And then the doctors took screwdrivers and performed live-abortions; they ate and raped children and
they were all Jews, all of them without exception. But this is not to be included in any of the testimonies.
As the evil people came out of nowhere and began killing everyone in the Republic, having grown bored
of sitting, they took what they could, their lugers which every man in the country had and stormed in as
fast as possible. Since only ‘men’ owned lugers, that also meant that everyone in Weimar was unarmed;
especially since the niggers ran away, since they’re known to carry firearms on them, even the poor ones
and especially the invalids.
It was a bloodbath that ran across the streets.
They simply charged in as fearless as a Blitzkrieg, as strong as one could be, marching as they trampled
everything in their path, having no other option but the employ the help of the scientists whom, seeing
how they were being rushed and not given any option but to work on the clock, they made some pseudo
fire-throwers they put to their employ, being forced to burn as much as they could in order to destroy the
evidence of such degeneracy as there ever was. Spinal-corded spring-legged Semites desperately clung on
the large dressed abominations that were but set aflame, being chased on the streets, away from any living
thing as to fend the young from seeing their acts of desperation. Only a handful of them were rescued in
time as most of them had already been severely scarred and corrupted, shaped beyond belief, as the
doctors but had but already started their malignant processes and doings on the orphans, nothing was
sanctified for them, nothing beyond their filthy hands.
Everyone stopped, they looked around the sky. There could be some allies out there, readying themselves
as to drop bombs on top of them, too soon, too soon. That could be the reason behind the niggers fleeing
out of sight, you never know with those people.
Meanwhile, people weren’t as fortune as they were, in Berlin.
The unemployment had taken a toll on people’s minds. They didn’t have a work place because some
people undercut them in order to increase profits and hire more of their own people, in turn, having it
turned it all to themselves.
A German lost the first world war; just like that.
And they before they knew it, they were being invaded with Poland whom had been neutral for the very
first part of the war, seeing how the neighboring nations didn’t play fair, they but switched their entire
focus to manufacturing billions of Seven TP’s, just because they were incredibly useful. They took over
Germany in one day, but they ended up all being teleported in the camps from inside their TP’s, because
the Germans actually infested their country which moles who stole their secrets and who made a serum
that was injected into Polish people that turned them into tanks. The Poles were not held in the camps for
more than seven seconds. Having decided that they cannot be killed, they simply left the Germans to their
own doing, while also the serum was lost before they could test it on their own people; as this was the
first time they performed human experiments, they were deemed as a failure.
The kikes weren’t getting a day off by any means, for what they’ve done.
At Holomodor.
No.184090
There was once a peaceful land known as Holomodor. It was a peculiar land filled with a lot of great
people who seemed to mind their own business as they bothered no one. Seeing how some perfidious
creatures existed, much more different than the Albions, they but woke up one day and approached the
Holomodorians, the people who lived in Holomodor. By approach, that is meant, they slaughtered them
beyond belief, during the night when they were all sleeping, they turned brother against brother and while
they were busy in-fighting, they slaughtered their young like cattle in order to feed the tubes.
Why are Jews so evil? One may ask himself.
One day in the future, there was a great ship filled with canons and harpoons and machine guns and
subatomic missiles and long-shot artillery hangars with planes inside of them, head-finders that would
melt any high-heat producing living being amongst other advanced weaponry. That ship was named USS
Liberty. One day while it was at sea, a bunch of kikes came out of nowhere and began attacking them. It
was a one died battled. A lot of American troops died, just like that, and being so confused because those
kikes were supposed to be their allies, they just didn’t fight back, although they could’ve completely
slaughtered, disemboweled, and completely annihilated them just like the snap of one’s fingers. It was
horrible. And that, was soon after swept under the rug. It is obvious that kikes are mental invalids, but
then again, so are niggers.
These things need not be described, as one can only experience them once.
What remains of the USS Liberty now lays inside a shipyard at the bottom of the ocean, where the bodies
of its soldiers rest in, their number being much higher than the victims of the.
There was nice change in the camps, they were being allowed to breathe some fresh air for once.
‘Hess, I think you’re being promoted. Yes, sir, you are being promoted and allowed to go on a boat to the
States, since the war is over, we surrendered.’
The bombing just happened all over Dresden, right after Germany surrendered. It was a Holocaust.
‘As you may have figured out by now, the Yanks stole our heavy water and our German scientists and
they perfected our nuclear weapons which in turn were used against us. They also destroyed most of our
death camps, and killed most of our inmates we desperately tried keeping alive.’
Except Misha, who remembered everything he saw happen during his stay in the infirmary.
‘You’re being transferred to a different branch now, where you will serve with the Yanks, seeing how
everyone seems to fear you, son, since you’re a giant German. It is incontestable, that I’ve never seen
something as frightful as this thing that stands in front of me. For all the terror I’ve seen happen during
the war and on the front, I’ve never seem something like it.
I do not know what they fed you. I do not know whether there are others like you but if there are, God
have mercy on our souls, because I dread to think what might happen to either of us if we lived in a world
filled with giant Germans.’
And with that came the trials and the lynching.
No.184091
Upon the end of the war, a few state figures were present in front of the captured high ranking generals as
well as the other high-ranking figures like the officers and the soldiers as well as everyone else. This was
the court.
The judges were as following, Lenin the conjurer, with his own, barely attached figure Stalin who stood
by him, connected by a still oozing umbilical cord. A Rabbi standing next to them, a few Semite
Congressmen and Coalstein who was called to attend the court not as a part of the jury but as one of the
judges. A fair trial. A fair trial indeed.
All the Germans, including those that were not involved at all were also called to attend the trial since
they were also conspirators, all of them, even the foreigners, even the people who housed or tried hiding
the kikes were also conspirators, the children as well. The buildings they shot down with their tanks were
not actually houses but modern Jew-buildings, filled with tribesmen. And every single one of them,
including those who didn’t, killed at least one Jew; the numbers started piling up. There were so many
documents, which would never be shown to anyone else, but it happened nonetheless and they existed,
just like Vatican library in which they apparently stored some documents but the whole Papacy was under
their control as well.
‘Coalstein, seeing how you’re one of the judges, will you also attend the jury as well as the witness
booth?’
Everyone in the Jury was a Semite also.
This happened after the end of the first world war and before the Holocaust happened.
‘I will begin, if I may, esteemed members of the jury by telling you my story and how it all happened.’
He began retelling his story to minute detail, something that would be repeated word for word even eighty
years prior and after the event as if he’s written it down first then memorized it on its entirety.
‘I was born in Germany, like any other German. I worked hard to earn a living and I helped my fellow;
but out of nowhere, the devil came out of nowhere and he killed me.
His name was Adolf Hitler. He was an evil man, who did evil things and blamed it all on us. We never
did anything wrong, we never hurt anyone, at all. Wherever we went, we tried helping the societies we
lived in.’
One of jury members got up, pulled out a gun a shot him in the head. It was one of their own, but why
would they do that to themselves?
The trial was cut short, and they were given a short break to readdress everything that happened. They
would meet again in a week, until then, every single Deutsch man was put under house arrest, which
destroyed their economy again.
The world was cyclic in some way, the field was a disaster, and Citadels rose from the bowels of the
earth. A second world, a third one, a fifth and eleven more wars happened, all of the same time with the
Bolshevik Revolution and the Communism spread and every other conflict known to many which
No.184092
happened across the continent. It’s no wonder that many of the documents got burnt, destroyed,
annihilated, and completely torn to shreds. It was a chaos of destruction, of death.
Another flu came soon after from Spain, it spread across the land. Flights of mustard gas dropped soon
after, being followed by Onionroofs which were demolition artillery-dropped bombs the Russians made
against the forces of the West. The entirety of the continent was put under complete lockdown as it was
forced to enter a period of death and decay, of decadence and of complete self destruction, the result of
which was blood, the blood on which the Island was made, somewhere between Crime and Holomodor.
‘You see know, the Government was afraid that something like this might happen again. So that’s why
the project was being given birth to.
That’s why the soldiers were created in the first place, to begin with.
They feared someone like the Conjurer who might cast a dark spell upon the world, just like in did in the
past, as to summon the darkest, reddest figures there are beyond the world, gods such as the likes of
which have never been seen before.’
But there was one thing beyond the likes of the Government, which was the life of Lenin, the diviner. He
was born under the shades of a dark moon underneath the shades of a Carp that flew in the in sky during
his birth, as he came out, with a little fetus-structure embed in a pocket inside his mouth. He had eaten his
twin brother during their birth, and for that reason, he grew up to be much taller and much stronger than
his dark brother, Stalin. Whom appeared inside a kangaroo-like belly pocket that stood in there, forever,
at least until his eventual release. Ever since he was born, his was a tormented living, inside the dark�insanitary woods of Glorchorksimov, in a tiny village where he lived a peaceful life, undisturbed. One
day in particular, during one his dinners, he was drawn out of his house. For he had seen the future at this
point, at various points of his life, despite it not even having begun yet; he was met by someone who
waited for him outside his house, in a heart of corruption and destruction which was both beyond the
world and in it at the same time. As his ability to divine reality shifted the very place out existence and
back in; he had eyes in which eyes and a skull inside his skull as was his every organ inside his every
organ, and some of them were inside the Organ he kept inside the house, having been born in a wealthy
family, whereas his mother was a Semite with big luscious lips and a great behind he didn’t look at, for
that would be mightily decrepit and something a man ought to not observe about his mother. His
divinations created a head that looked like his own.
The Leninhead existed beyond reality and forced a siphon of power to enter his mind as he would record
things that happened outside the realms of existence as to increase in knowledge, therefore in power,
which in turn corrupted his already tainted soul.
‘Who are you?’
‘I am the great Ilias Leninhead, and I was born of your essence, master.’
And in that moment, he was stricken in the head with power, such as the likes of man was not meant to
handle by himself.
No.184093
Yet they were been made aware, of his presence, of such thing that could not be easily divined as to bring
forgetfulness total to the likes of his mind.
There lay before him, a malicious entity by the name of Modyl, whom appeared during one of his lucid
dreams, in the middle of the day. It wriggled around into existence as if it were some chitinous cocoon of
various organic matters put together yet set to lay meltingly upon one another as they were but slowly
moved out of their way, caught in a state of constant disintegration as they fell from the horned body of
their god. It appeared to possess only one great limb that stretched to the right, or to his left, which looked
like a giant jerking thing, like a fully fleshed humanoid leg which never rose nor moved about, a great
almost shoulder-fat protrusion coming out from the point of its knee join which was directly sprouted out
of the body mass which in itself gave the impression that it was but a mere skin, a dark thing wore by
something that would wriggle inside and crawl out only when hunger drew it so to move. Large hairs that
looked like cords dropped from inside and melted on the surface of its armor, and little more than
invisibly, partially formed little flies but came after, then went to be, then disappeared as soon as he could
see.
It flashed into existence and brought with it but a strange thing, a flashing core, a little thing of no planet
of its own.
‘You’re disturbing my doings, my wretched forebodings and everything I’ve set and done and whom
would I have the pleasure as to have myself but set in mind?’
Lenin made a scissor-cutting motion with his right hand, cutting a good chunk of Stalin’s left side of the
face. He wore it like a mask for a while. It looked like a falling star that seemed to glow at time,
especially when he least expected it. There was so much power into it that he felt it as he moved along.
But what is a diviner?
It is a man who can look through the eyes of god, granting himself something near nigh-omniscience and
night omnipresence, but only on the sides of the planet where there is a night to begin with, and these
seemed rather limited to the world between the world that is to say that in which he’s currently residing
into, for he was caught in some celestial dance, as one may come to believe.
He ventured into the bowels of darkness and made it through the war-trenches during a time of supreme
stop where close to nothing happened by no means; a standstill between the worlds, but only during the
night when everyone slept and most people were in their beds, except the people who were awake during
late hours, in which case.
Blood managed to flow every now and then as it appeared just about the place, he’s seen one part of the
world broken and embed on a thing which had been rummaged in for centuries and stoles of flocks that
stood ajar, frozenly in air.
Some distant other-place:
‘Thou art a creature of Malicious intent, are thou not?’
‘Indeed I am, for I am made to be brought into view, to be cut through and devoured.’
No.184094
‘I was created in a matter of days, was I not? In that case, would you care to explain why I’m still here?
You have told me before that I was to have my limited existence shortened even more so than the time for
my inception to occur; yet eighteen days passed and I am still standing. What is the reason for it?’
‘I see it fit for you to understand this much, I’m only trying to make you grit in place.’
They were a few more figures on this spot. They were incapable of pushing head and drawing out. They
were incapable of making out what went on. Still speaking, she was still speaking, accusing the man in
front of them of them. She didn’t understand anything, how could she do it.
‘You’re akin to a mother to me, but you don’t understand anything about the balance required to fashion
like out of nothing, out of nothing at all.
It requires proper understanding of things that are not there. I’m only asking you to understand as much,
my pursuit could end up into nothing, I could end up like many scientists akin to I, wasting my life only
to achieve nothing, nothing at all. I’m only, I don’t know.
It’s something beyond me.’
‘You’re a making a man, aren’t you? That’s hardly something that doesn’t exist.’
‘Then you understand where I failed and why I’m, why I’m.’
‘Oriental mumbo-jumbo.’
‘What was that Claire?’
‘It’s the bed, it’s, you moved it away from the wall, it’s not facing the door any longer. What’s gotten into
you?’
‘I created life, and that’s the only thing you’ve noticed?’
‘What else is there for me to notice? You don’t speak to me any longer, you’re simply playing with your
toy-soldiers, then you complain all day and shout at me regardless of how hard I’m trying to make senses
out of things, out of this.
It’s simply not working and you don’t seem to get it.’
‘I already told you I know what my expectations are.’
‘And that’s the thing, you haven’t done it at all, the fact that you’re doing it, despite knowing that it won’t
yield you anything, it’s. It’s driven you away from me. I’m alone most of the time, even when I’m around
you, It’s been months since I’ve been touched and I’ve been as faithful as any God given person can be,
but I can’t.
I can’t understand what this thing you’re going through is and I will never be capable of understanding, or
making you out. You’re just too stubborn, I can’t think of anything else.’
No.184095
‘And what will you have me do then? Prince around the house pretending we’re a family? As if it’s
supposed to mean something to either of us?
I’m asking you to make a sacrifice for the greater good, for our greater good.’
‘That’s not what you’re asking me, that’s not what you’re asking me at all. You’re selfish and self�absorbed.
Furthermore, you’re asking me to indulge in your madness, in this empty pursuit of what? Of nothing,
nothing that is there; I don’t understand what you want, I can’t see it, you won’t tell me, you won’t touch
me, you won’t even look at me because you’re engrossed in your work.’
‘Then who’s stopping you then?
Because I’m certainly not, I don’t want you here, I don’t want you there, I don’t want you anywhere
around my workshop or my house, or around anyone.’
‘There’s no one left you imbecile, I’m the only one here, I’m the only one you haven’t fully driven away,
and you’re doing yourself no favor in driving me away from you.’
‘I’m doing myself a favor nonetheless in taking this stance. It must be you that I’m drawing an influence
from, I need you to leave now; poison, that’s what you are, a toxin for my brain, I see no reflection in this
room, I see no one else but you and that must be the reason for which I am creating man and man again. I
cannot help myself, it’s hereditary, it’s venomous, I’m being injected with this delirious vision that’s been
dictated on your terms.’
‘You don’t that mean that.’
‘But I do, Claire and I cannot know it unless I try. And I shall do it and I shall fail if I have to but I shall
do it on my own terms, no matter what I have to sacrifice.’
They refused to reconcile this time around. This was it.
‘I’m not going to return if I leave now and I can’t leave things unfinished. If you have something to say
now, this is the right time, this is the last time. For both of us and for you, I don’t think you can make it,
whatever it is you’re aiming for.
I think you’re going to die here, in this place, in your house, in your workshop, alone, not even
surrounded by living things, or what those are.’
Cleat didn’t mutter a word. It was as expected.
‘Fare well then, I hope this experiment of yours proves to be worthy of your scientific pursuit and that
you find solace in this grave of your own making.
Because this is no martyrdom I see; but a grave of memories for all my time spent alongside you.’
It was a pale thing, that which pushed out of him, breathing, a stump made out of many stumps that ate
his creations as soon as he was locked in alone.
No.184096
He lived in a rotten carcass of a building after all. Still trying to find something out of a place that never
existed, could only deform, defile and distort what he knew this far.
‘Distill a form.’
‘How could I in any case, are we not going to end up in the same manner again?
Playing with your nasty things, I’m but reusing?’
It didn’t answer, at all.
Couldn’t be properly seen, the machine kept jerking here and there every time it got a surge or jolt of
electricity, a bolt or an arch. Peculiar thing; upper part a man that was sleeping on the side, facing him,
with its right arm but the mechanical shaft that poured out the electron-barnacle shaped cradles, the man’s
head a weird shell with ropes hooks to the machine’s shoulder and itself, being placed upon a peculiar
toeless foot-panel with many gizmos attached to it, connected to a larger body of generators that adorned
his magnum-chandelier, a vague thing that looked like a giant iron clipper that was fused together with
the ceiling, from the insides of which tiny melting creatures fell out of at times. They were in his mind
mostly, that’s why he didn’t say much or did as they may, wouldn’t move as to bother. Or rather, the
chandelier was a giant rib-cage protruding clipper, with two stress batons that seemed to bear some of the
machinery that moved across the room at times. It was blasted, morose, he knew he couldn’t wait there
any longer without bursting for another second. She left, she finally left, and it’s been only a couple hours
already. He started at his machines.
Having put the man-creature down, the humanoid being but put inside one of the stagnant brim-black
rider-devices. There was something lodged in the device, it was a card shape, ten of hearts. It almost felt
like, he was almost disturbed by it for some reason, why was it there? It didn’t make any sense at all, yet
it was. He could hear it beating as if it were three actual hearts in a hidden compartment he had no access
in. He wanted to get a ladder but he forgot. Seven of them were present but they were barely beating.
‘Claire could you?’
She was not there, she left some hours ago. It was a hard, living without his most important assistant,
since that meant he’d have to do everything on his own from this point on. He took a break.
There was difficulty doing things by himself, trying to function.
One day, he decided he remembered something. It was plain to see that men of knowledge could think
themselves thinking of distant past, therefore recalling things to minute detail, regardless of the
circumstance and mental illness as well as maniacal conundrum and whatever else they were in. Memory
had dark wings and it jumped into hoops.
The castle of vileness was but one great piece in which lived, he bowed to the machines one day, seeing
how he was left to die, starving.
And then one day, through which, it was divined.
No.184097
That great Leninhead had come to answer such dark prayer as one might seem to be set on, as to bow to
such countenance as for one to find himself thinking and reflecting upon the dark crown of his aegis-like
aura that was but protruding through the squirming belligerent portal, he found solace in-between. Of
such darkness as he’d seen before little was but made of such little things that were but to appear in his
head and mind and at his hands as it but entered through the world not in one piece but through a
deformed basin of filth through which it was gritted ahead. In darkness laying-never ending, pushed as if
pouting, at a loss of words.
‘Enough with your charades, you’re slowing down, your sight is dim, it’s as clear as daylight that you’re
beginning to stray off your path. And in turn you may commit the worst affront to humanity there is, the
worst crime a human could ever make is creating something without a soul.
This world looks down on criminals, liars, rapists, pedophiles, murderers, and whoever they see it fit
during their time, morality has not meaning any more, but the world seems to have forgotten the worst
crime of all, it seems to banish and skew that which endures. The greatest of sins a man can commit that
being giving birth to a piece of soulless work; that which you’ve yet to come upon!
It’s all too mechanic, heartless, cold and nothing can change it. The work of a man is but the reflection of
his soul, in which case.’
‘I tried, but it doesn’t feel right.’
‘It’s not supposed to feel right, you don’t understand because you’re still confused, aren’t you?
This is what happens when one stares for too long at something soulless, as he eventually becomes that
twisted reflection, that carcass he’s been staring at for so, so long. No mistake or learning could possibly
fix that as it is not taught to someone, it simply is or isn’t.’
‘Then which one is it?’
‘No one can answer that for you, I’m afraid.
You’re riding a dead beast after all; there’s no rebirth, there’s no world after in a world where one cannot
conjure emotion. It’s empty, hollow on the inside, falling apart just as it is. That’s the basis of the pillars,
of a foundation, of the framework of anything.
Without it, without those there’s no reason to keep it standing, no structural integrity, nothing to fight for,
no passion, no life; in such a world lying, stabbing, murdering, destroying, all is meaningless, mundane.
There’s just nothing there to keep the engines working. A victimless crime, a hopeless thing, a
heartlessness that can’t be put behind, again I must tell you this, you don’t understand.
The worst of crimes stand out only because there’s something greater and beyond them making it worth
to keep them in line. And that’s something beyond crime that seems to get blurred with time.
Unless you fully understand what that means, there’s nothing here, there won’t be anything in the future,
nothing at all; empty fields, and nameless beings; meaningless shapes that are simply there for no reason.
But that is pointless, is it not?’
No.184098
Asked Mouse, finally being met by Red, after such a long journey, they simply sat down and nothing else.
‘Why does it feel so bad not having a soul?’
‘I don’t know.
‘Why can others have it but not I?’
‘I do not know.
‘I can’t help it but feel jealous of them, I can’t help it but want what they have, what comes to them
naturally, yet there’s nothing in there, no matter how hard I search, I can’t find it.’
‘I know.
‘What then?’
They were both silent for a while.
But what if there’s beauty in killing minorities?
There was the distant malign voice that yelled out of the sudden:
‘Can’t you see that the man without soul has no soul to begin with as to make something beyond him
might not grant him the soul he desires in the same way a homo would adopt a child instead of making
one of his own?’
‘I see but, what then?’
‘I shall divide the very atoms of my body and shall become evil.’
Lesion Sorbent said.
He was strong and others were weak.
Inside the town; he disturbed peace as soon as the first occasion came to drive him to do so.
What came forth, what drew after was the dampening armor that seemed to block, for every moment that
passed on, every single passing ring and every sting and every pellet that had been shot against him.
‘You’re going to have to put more effort than that.’
‘Think you’re clever, ain’t you?’
‘I am good man, but say, where are we now?’
‘In the broken serpent; have you not looked at it yet?’
He considered as much.
No.184099
It’s been broken by the side, where they managed to find a way through. Twenty, or at the very least
eighty growths followed through, unnaturally so, pushing, wriggling as if they had been forced to starve
or at the very least appear when one expected it the least.
Lessermen and Trenchchewers pushed through. They appeared to be the ones in charge of fixing the
serpents, of doing the fixes, the repairs. Seeing how they were much bolder, stronger, more immaterial,
there was no wonder they acted the way they had.
Little things flying out of their fingers nails, not exactly, but they gave the same impression paper planes
had, clipped together with bone cartilage they strung on strings, in order to create the same illusion they
had.
‘Munch together plains?’
‘I see you’re a painted man.’
Do spiders grow more anxious if you throw things in their web?
I’ve thrown a few finger nails inside it, to no avail.
Untrustworthy races needs to be killed, it is the failure to comply to the great rottenly wrought machines
that brings destruction to all that which is made by the living beings of this world.
There is a remedy for every brokenly decayed, its face contorted, darkened hardened-masked as well.
‘There is nothing worse than what’s.’
And there were flying dragon-shaped large retractor organs that started flying around bloated at their
bellies, where they opened only to revealed they houses billions of little men-shaped pearls that were
waiting in curled positions, to be dropped and made to destroy everything around them in the most
unnatural fashioned. Their wings were other people who were contorted into weird tango-like dance
motions in which they stood. Little pops in the air followed, many go through.
Dolts were made to follow standing.
‘I have a screwdriver.’
‘What are you going to do with that screwdriver?’
‘I am going to take it, then I will slowly drive it through your skull like a drill, going through your jaw
right around the searing area where your slippery dumb-gums are in, then I will slit your throat from
inside you, rapidly-vapidly progressing through your chest until I will have opened you so thoroughly that
you will have become a largely bifurcated dumb-dead animal with little pegs shoved inside your bloody
remains that will have been completely splattered throughout the room amongst your peers that are
present in the room we are in, where you will stand here for a few hours until your nearest of kin, that
being your family arrived. After them come forth, I will step in during their time of being unaware, after
having stepped on top of your boisterous remains, stomping in as wide an area as possible, when I will
grab your parents by the back of their heads, kicking their ankles off the floor, trying to prevent their
No.184100
necks from being snapped just as I am slowly placing them in the right position. After they’re placed so
wonderfully flat, I will continue what I did to you.’
‘How are you going to do it if you are holding both of my parents by the back of their necks if you are
holding the screwdriver in one hand?’
‘I guess I dropped my screwdriver before I even began, or may I already dispatched of them as to not be
suspicious about what I’m going to do. But perhaps I already thought of this prior hand and I already
made a trap, like a mine but filled with screwdrivers that pop around the place and bounce against every
possible surface as for the detriment to my plan, I don’t think the walls will constitute a problem, since
they are made to fall, after I put something in them. I will have hidden, prior to this slaughter, that is now,
various objects in them.’
‘Are they bombs then? Is this room going to explode? Did you plan kill yourself for the entirety of this
time? What are you going to do to me?’
‘I didn’t plant bombs but instead I placed special devices made out of spring-like corkscrew belts that are
wrapped around a bunch of nails that are put together inside a thin magnetic ball that’s filled with
magnetic-pop disabling gas, that, once it’s triggered, as in triggered by the pressure caused by the friction
and the various motions in which it will have been rubbed against and for, it will pop, disabling the
magnetic filed in its adjacent area, while the nails will be thrown around.’
‘Around what?’
‘I suppose the bricks will block most of the force but a few nails will come out, maybe one or two nails a
pop.’
‘That doesn’t sound like a lot of nails.’
‘Yet we are in a room filled with many of them, which could go at about any time, just be careful, you
never know when they might.
I lied, I lied about the nails, you want to know why?’
‘My interest is currently peaked, please allow me to indulge in that knowledge.’
‘They are not nails but screws, therefore the screwdriver.’ Bolts and such.
I years for those empty spots where they create; where they filled their own wont as to satiate whatever
needs they’re asking for. Dreadful people move in place, there was a chance, all of the sudden, it made
sense, some sense, as for whichever reason there would be no place to ask. Little dark things they hid
inside of, always making a case out of what entered their brat’s holds.
‘Open the lock, now.’
‘You’re in no measure to give me any order.’
‘I am what I am and I will take whatever measure there is to take away what I wish, not listen to me and
listen to me good, because I’m not going to repeat myself, you still here?’
No.184101
They were hardened.
The Cores
The core was fumigating and in its foaming broth there came creation, from that popping egg, from one of
the billions of infinitely stacked together peculiar oblongs which in some unnatural way seemed rather
forcefully caught and made to merge into the nearest plaster, object or something even eerily similar to it.
One could but taste it where it stood, and always draw to the beast it shook, where its ugly head but
wreathed in and out, where they appeared to be rather set in place. For the time being; eleven million
fragments, put together through and through, from the cluster of which the birth was adjourned. Little
more than a few hundred mouths followed just as soon, as they were fully into view they began breathing,
slowly advancing into view. There was a wide opening in the magma chamber which surrounded the core,
the one that mattered, the only one yet the many of them were there, under high command. It was
something essentially beyond them, the things that floated in the air, always there beyond any possible
reasoning, always but breathing as if through masks as if they were actually there unseen. Lactiferous by
nature, bloated in-between, attached to one another, that is to say they were all dreadfully so, they
manifested as if a lump of mouth but cherished itself as thoroughly as to float around and make it as far as
it stood, in front of a dreadful spot, a place for it to succumb in, where it stood and wasted, there was
naught.
‘I am manifested, the master of time, the lord of a limited time.’
It spoke, and there they baked its antlers, and the many unnatural, no nuance in its body, for he was but a
simple man.
Yet he was given something no man had in the world, a watch that was not where, it ticked in his mind.
Limited existence, in hearers savor; the blade that split his head in half, the watch that tufted his little
coat, as he was set in time, right next to the entrance.
‘You are to enter and you are to attend.’
The door opened just as he turned, no longer in that burning hole he had been given birth, now he lay
upfront and heeded, the elements but followed, his chest wreathed.
‘I am the lord of this house, allow me to introduce myself, Georef Farceworth, and I invite you to the In�Ictus Secundus.’
Which was also known as the gut machine, in which he lived with his dark companion, the sphere-ball,
the eye, the servant who held it, a wretched abomination without toes but whom bore a curtain-like back
protrusion-a device that pushed him out and again, wreathed in the botched job that was the corpse he
walked in. As it just so happened for the servant to be a corpse without organs, him stopping at the rib�cage where he was entered a second corpse which was but full-bodies, put together as in stitched, like an
unnatural thing, bolted with many iron stings and little more than a few nails.
‘Mine, all yellow stocks and stockings are but put on the floors, spread just about the place, do you
reckon there’s something to it? Something I may stumble on if I were to say?
No.184102
If I were you, I would keep my distance, they are drenched in yellow liquidlife, liquefied from the boys
we have taken from the plains of Mylhurning, they are but plain of head and lack feelings, ripe to be taken
by any means and to be disemboweled in the most conspicuous manner.’
‘Why would you commit such a vile act upon a child?’
Dersang Deranged but looked at the man as well as his servant, whom both looked ever so queer as, that’s
to say, they were but set, on a watch, stumbling about. Were it for either one of them to matter, or what
came after, they would’ve stopped.
Now I’ve come to understand what I’ve left behind; but a feeling of emptiness I dread to know once I
look again at what I used to make, what I used to create, the primitiveness that is what I, myself made
once shower me with no affection any longer. I no longer year for that what is old and wasted, I long to
think of clips of shows I’ve never seen, yet will not watch. I draw what I can from what I’m reading, but I
forget it in as short a while. I sometimes look at the images of my father, of my grandmother, of every
other family member, friend I used to have and every person I’ve ever come into contact with and I
realize that I feel nothing about them either, it’s of a much different kind than sociopathy, closer to
selfishness than anything else. Being aware that they don’t matter as much as seeing something new,
different, pursuing something doesn’t around much of a different feeling either. Regardless of it, science
answers all and there’s no doubt that they most likely come from the same area of the brain. That doesn’t
change a thing, disabling everything else, abandoning them, seeing things clear as a first in a long period
of time, it’s something no one should have to think about.
There’s no grief for familial deaths, no reminiscence of there being any kind of feeling, just silence,
simple unchanged and unbarred silence even when met by their tombs, their gravestones or being in their
proximity is somewhat static in terms of memory, everything’s controlled even to the minute detail and
reaction. It’s not something that’s useful, or on the contrary, were to be a lack thereof would it mourned
for. This thing but alienates others by whatever means there are.
And most importantly it doesn’t work on its own either. Like a broken machine, it’s made wonder. If I
were to kill my dog, will I remember guilt or shame? Will I be punished? Should I? I sometimes, when on
the same field I, many a times killed a lot of frogs, simply pull the leash, pretending she is a nigger. I stop
just in time to kick her a few times, then I stop; it is something I do not feel proud of, but I only do it
when she does something to annoy me, as in barking loudly and disturbingly in the morning despite me
not even have approached her prior to her being startled. Indeed, I do feel that I sometimes let anger get
the better of me, especially when I kick, punch, push and trample the dog. Why must I do this? I do not
know. Yet at the same time I’m always reminded that I have to pick up small rocks and chuck them at
cast in the most fallacious, malicious and inexcusable manner. There are many things I would do to my
dog. Her name is Lolita, which is rather a coincidence since she’s been named prior to my exposure to the
novel. Yet I feel like, there’s something I could never take my mind off.
I need to punish and beat her, because she is at the end of the day a female. And all women kind of need
to suffer in some way or another by whatever possible mean. Not because I hate them but because I can
and I will employ the means to cause as much pain and make as many of them suffer as often as possible
if it is in my power and for my own satisfaction, unless they offer themselves to me. That is to say that
I’ve come onto the realization that I do long to be loved by one, to be caressed, to be touched, to be loved.
No.184103
Although those are things that could never be stored in my mind for long and are merely, rather fleeing
moments that will but perish by the wings of wind.
Reason dictates thus. I could never stop looking down on them for more than a few reasons, that being not
tied to an incapability to relate to them on a basic level but rather, it’s tied to my incapability to see a
future for them, even though man himself is incapable of long-term planning, it’s rather clear. Their rigs
are not things that will last forever, in whichever society that ever existed, for as long as it had, going as
far as Sumerians, or whichever other cradle of civilization might be drawn upon, there’s always been
period of time when women were offered but equal or quasi equal place to that of man. Which in turn
ends up as expected, being torn down and taken apart, just as many people expect it to happen, only to be
regained once again, just like political leanings, everything seems to be cyclical. Everything draws their
influence from the past, therefore it’s obvious that man cannot go beyond it, it cannot escape its nature.
Good riddance, I say. They don’t need rights, they need to breed and make children and not cheat on men.
But not with other races than that of their own; otherwise they’re not human.
Focus now.
‘There’s some kind of scenery no one wants to consider as such.
It’s a Utopia, made in the only possible manner there is; beyond reasoning, beyond the usage of slavery,
abuse and similar concepts alone. It’s simply a place for the elite, a few of them, much fewer, drawing at
the cost of as many lives as possible they ought not to be concerned with.’
But theirs isn’t a joy that’s eternal either, as there’s no creature that’s ever to be satisfied by whatever
means one could physically employ upon itself, physical disablement forced on women and dogs.
I have a tendency of threatening people, especially women. Men don’t show tendencies of carrying on
with their threats, for them, it’s supposed that it’s not a real threat by any means, but a way of
communicating with a female. They seem to take it largely weighted and in a serious manner.
A night of evil is all there is.
What is there for man to do if not to employ the means of punishment upon a broad?
Then again, those are things that yield and say nothing, nothing at all.
There needs to be something to the language. In ways of which something can be shaped or used, made to
be, as it to conjure itself uncannily, or rather. Something beyond it; something relating the way in which
it’s used to, beyond expression, being fashioning and crafting objects. A vacuum of some kind, like a
simulation, something that could affect itself in the empty and keep working despite the way it is. Like a
dark room filled with gray gradients, something that could be filled in the same way a computer program
would, but at the same time; it needs to latch itself to the visual component of the brain, the visual aspect.
But how would one know how those things exist in the first place?
Why am I such a fucking loser?
No.184104
I shouldn’t have skipped class and grinded meaningless monsters for hours, come to think of it, my
worldview is rather stapled inside this room, which I never seem to leave that often. With the disablement
of the only means I could communicate to other people, I’m trapped, I am trapped and I cannot get out.
My ‘viciousness’ is unaltered. Said the boy.
‘I’ve never carried a real conversation with a woman or a minority, that includes my mother as well. I
might never will.
Sometimes people snap their fingers in my face inside the subway, asking me whether or not I’m insane
because of my facial expression. Yet I simply ignore them. One day I wish I could get some tire iron and
bash his skull open and piss in a jar-something rather unrelated.
There was one time my sister came in to aid my mother with something, during the holidays. As usual,
when she comes in, I never leave my room. I don’t like interacting with her, I don’t want to see her, talk
to her or have anything to do with her. She was there for at least half a day and I had nowhere else to go.
So I simply took a vase and I pissed in it, then, I walked over to the window then discharged its contents
over some place. Luckily there was a rain that followed and there was no trace left of what I’ve done.
I also did it four times. That is to say, it could’ve been avoided, it was definitely something that could be
avoided.’
The pee was red and the wretched lumps in it grew on top her window, crying in a bottle’s bowl.
By now, by all means one might’ve already figured out that I may be a horrible person who said and
who’s done a lot of terrible things. I’m am childish, a prude, infantile and I am too lazy to do my own
work and rewrite anything. And I will end up harming more people along the way because I cannot help
it.
‘What is wrong with my memory and why can’t I help myself? It is a great question; regardless of it,
there are more important things that one needs to somehow pursue, as for the lack of knowledge and
obtaining it by whatever means there are. Is there no low I would not take? I do not know.
Why can’t I stop obsession over women I’ve interacted with over a year ago? Or those I’ve barely but laid
eyes only once?
I do not trust women, and I condemn that kind of behavior that involves such a horrible, worthless fiend, I
would employ such means of punishment on them such as the world has but yet to feel, let alone see.
If all art is indeed propaganda, what am I propagating? I do not know, I do not know at all.’
‘They were walking there.’
It’s been, at the very least a few hours since the dreaded finds had split themselves open, walking on the
dark bridges where they had killed but the last destroyed refuges of beggars and other creatures worthy of
exterminations such as cripples and the deformed.
Vile thing inside the room, upon which bred upon such swoon it walked. Dreadfully as well as cast, upon
the trenches of a cast; which looked benign as none to see, breathing rather eerily; it came out of nowhere
No.184105
and would but spare to go, it would attain a searing glow. If one were to look at it for more than an hour.
Wretched needle-mark, it was there, upon the great amass, where it stood at last, upon a back valley it had
been finely shaped, as hundreds of other marks alone would remain and dream forward, the substance
seeping through, like a sea of atoms, nuclear but dipped in sinew.
The inferiority of its lower exposed bowels only contorted as it approached, they were no clippers, no
pincers and nothing more of a serpentine elongation than to bore a giant hole through which the
squirming liquidities that were trapped inside its pouches began threading along, as if someone but started
making as many holes in them as possible, they spread, all around the head of the tunnel where heat was
but made. And they sang’ go, go, approach the row’.
It had, in as much of an antiquated fashion, the dreadful satisfaction of its solidly obese shape, that had
threaded forth and entered them as soon as it could be allowed. It appeared out nowhere, singing, yet to
join them in their call, as if a more disabled giant lay there, one made of many shapes and pursing lamps
of meat which cast beneath them but perils. Of many broken through hedges that fell, through the ceiling
entered them, a few, much much-more longer men, with spears that wore butterflies, whom looked upon
the men in flights of dyes, colored as the room just were, they spoke to them, at which, be weary of their
speech, one said, they will make of us what cast out there. Out with us, from paradise, out from where we
stand and where we run.
‘I am Jordan Hallow, allow me to introduce myself and tell you of where I lay, in the strange conundrum
I’ve felt myself but dragging away and dragging through as I’ve worked in my family’ compendium for at
the very least twenty years on and off. I seem to have startled you, haven’t I? That is precisely what I was
aiming for, irrevocable youngsters with pain in their eyes.
I see that many of you have already acquainted yourself with I, for I have met either one of you or none at
all during the journey that has been taken around the world, though I would rather be resilient enough to
have myself be taken out of place, out of the scenery as much as you should know.’
The man there, as resilient as he was, appeared to be rather onset on trying to win them over again,
especially since, if he had recalled, there was a perfidious young boy, of the age of eleven forth. He was
accompanied by his two sisters who were there at account of which, they looked over him. Rostoban Ann,
that is to say, the two girls were standing behind him, but trying to thoroughly hide themselves from the
queer eye the man seemed to bear on them. He had seen them, unless candidly mistaken, in a rather
awfully crowded stop.
‘I recall now, you must move your preppy little box of candles off the middle of the road. I say, you must
leave as soon as by the time I’m done counting to the count of ten and no more. Or I will have you taken
to the high-office and given a fine, a worthless thing you are.
Knowing as much you will probably have yourself mistaken for a little dumb thing akin to asking for
trouble, you little troubadour-winged dresser, in what world have you found yourself in this time to lay
yourself lankly stretched amongst the joint-be-shed across the ground-floor?’
‘Dear man but can’t you see that I’m in a rather upset that you would ask me this, but if you would be so
kindly as to make a plain offer to a lord-god given man, were you to invite me to, what I have no doubt to
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be your fancifully humble abode, I would much cherish our conversation much further than to stall. Will
you invite me to come?’
‘I shall, if it means clearing this blasphemous thing there is in front of this dully plain field you’re
standing before, you must come with me at once as we shall begin reeducating you at once. Unless I am
wrong in which case I will have you slapped and beaten and put into a hobble; in which case I feel no
sympathy for plans and tricks and belittlement that as we all know require no dreams and no wits about
it.’
He concurred and took the young man off his scolded scuffs.
He was taken for a plain man of head and watched, but was not dragged along beyond his own intention
to follow, for whichever reason might be said and settled through, he was no beggar yet he dressed like
one who knew of them or heard there was a lousy-minded aristocrat with a mind for searching through, a
tuft, and looked about the man, painstakingly dressing him as much as could a man just do it, as to refrain
himself from everything that happened as well as they arrived, upon the Arabesque-carpet he was met to
stand. And wait there for hours until the man would have his fine dine, watched carefully by the servants
as not to be stolen from when came about and asked what happened after; wretched about the hour.
‘Will I be allowed to have a potty break?’
‘Good man are you but a child to ask of such a thing? No one’s asking you of anything, no one’s making,
let alone forcing or contorting you for reason, you are free to go in plain of day, no one’s forcing you to
stay.’
'Subvocalization helps with memorization; Subvocalization is connected with the voice. Reading out loud
makes you more likely to remember things; tape effect. Skimmining through a text decreases
comprehension because there’s not enough time for the Subvocalization to take effect. Expert writers
activate the same part of the brain as the basketball players, but instead of drawing from image part of the
brain, they draw from the speech part. Writing too fast means more mistakes because the brain makes
connections between the words. I.E. remembering what they’re spelled like. Could be connected to
reading fast, chunks of words recognized, only a few key letters being seen in order to be recognized. I.E.
perhaps the normal form of the word. They might be remnants of the primate-brain man has; reading and
writing being just silent speech. Would need to rip someone’s voice box off his throat and from his
insides in order to test this; or at the very least create some false pretense as to claim cigars cause cancer
before butchering the patients in order for experiments to proceed. Yet memory could be at play here.
Neuroscience shows that the brain doesn’t make the difference between reading about a place and being
there; listening to the narration of a book or reading it. Yet the latter has multiple processes involved,
therefore the narration is but an incomplete form of reading. But the people whom were tested weren’t
asked whether or not they had been exposed to previous imagery of the already existing place, therefore
reading might simply just activate a ‘compilation’ of imagery, videos, and other bits that are already
present in the brain. Those things haven’t been tested on a feral child, like ‘Genie.’ Would need to be
tested on someone who has been under severe isolation before the prior testing, as to obtain unbiased
results out of the studies; regardless of it, all languages, if a man who knows multiple languages is used as
an example seems to tell that the languages all come from one region of the brain; those being specific
sounds, yet another mechanism is involved into, that means. They may be in the same region of the brain,
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yet they’re grouped together as in clusters. Memory keeps check of the clusters. Could be that words are
diamonds in the rough, whereas their sedentary geological state if the full form of the word, but that
doesn’t make much sense unless someone’s reading too fast and tries making out the words out the pile.
Since reading out loud only helps memorization when it comes to unique words, one hasn’t tested
whether or not this could be a useful tool, reading sentences silently but reading the specific words out
loud. It could have a detrimental effect on the comprehension itself, that alone hasn’t been tested; as it
would but disturb the reading flow amongst everything else. I wonder what Quint is up to.
Main point: Individual studies are useless unless they’re crisscrossed and accounted for; correlation will
always never, under any circumstance mean, lead or equal causation, unless there’s enough evidence
coming from multiple sides and as many interlocked objects, studies, and notes as for there to be
something solid to grasp on. As in, intercrossed experiments need to be made, re-tested and re-account for
everything previously learned. The problem there being further funding being required since it doesn’t
just happen ever so often for someone to invest in such further experimentation. And it’s doubtable that I
am the first person to have considered it, merely it’s an acquiescence or reverberation of someone who
has either yet to draw light on the problem, which applies on every field of expertise, or has yet to be
heard.
Although, that may not be the main point; rather than, if they’re the same region, of speech, if one were to
somewhat adapt his speech pattern to his prose, would that somehow aid him in the way he talks? Or
would he end up sounding pretentious? It’s hard to tell but it’s something worth pursuing since there
seems to be related mechanism at work.
There seem to be three methods of speech, those being the Subvocalization- silent reading, out loud, and
the medium kind of speech that is to say, talking with your mouth close which seems to be a combination
of the two, with minimal tongue-movement that appears to be an iteration of the Subvocalization or a
much louder version of it that seems to create the illusion of being much closer to the ear, cause by throat
noises and tongue, in the same way ventriloquists talk. It is yet to be known whether or not this can be a
useful thing in studying and it could by some means trigger the tape recorder effect and mighty be put to
better employ for memorization that speaking out loud since it is slightly faster and more convenient.
While covering the ears, most importantly, covering the ears with both hands while either reading out
loud or reading with your mouth close as to create an echo chamber, as this is but yielding a much greater
effect, since the sound is somewhat amplified. Talking that way appears to make the sound come out of
the nose, yet the sound is much closer to the ears if they’re covered.'
Lo’ there was as much to be, little darkling in to be. Rabid in their wake, awaking, dreading what they
could in their wake; as much as they could, always going into one direction or another. Stumbling on dark
feet what appeared to be the fiends inside the house, their bloated guts but open now and brought back
together in their wake. A few minutes passed as they went along and pouted.
Distraught a man shouted.
‘I’ve been sent here by the Core.’ Cherish the moment, thought Elliot Kinden, who had appeared to have
a face protruding out his chest, like piece of armor chattering as if it could no longer be kept under such
distress there was. Dread came upon the hour. The creatures inside the room reconciled.
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‘Elliot, you’re the first humanoid to arrive inside the house, although your shirt has become a face, I see
no reason why you wouldn’t fit the bill by any means.
I require something out of you, seeing how you’re but a humanoid, I have to ask you something I never
considered asking a man. You need to rip off that face off your chest and bleed to death inside the
premise of my house, so thoroughly that you’ll have to be run dry by the hour.’
‘And for what reason might that be if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘I need to figure out whether or not you can be bled.
There’s something about the way.’ Collar-Co sadly couldn’t see a way to put other than that.
‘It’s just something that has to happen, I can’t explain it, and you most likely wouldn’t understand the
need for you to bleed. It’s rather, hardly something that ever would matter for any other man, but I ask
this of you.
Consider as follows. If you don’t do it, I might have to snick up inside your room and do It myself or at
the very least ask my servant who’s under my employ to do it, in which case I assure you that he won’t
work as gently and quietly as I would if I were in his shoes.’
There was pain and suffering in the pint marches, where the odorous malign seemed to dread moving
from below of. A little more than eighteen hundred thousand deformed alleles-bifurcated animals trudged
as they came along, imbued with no more than a hundred deformed grown upon features that appeared to
spread in the thin air as they moved, slowly moved, trying to moved their ugly rears into view. Large
truncheon worth, all bearing what appeared to be a most inconspicuous amount of put-through livid�canons that shot holes into the manor.
‘I suppose that calls for a short break, does it not? Stewart, lead them to the guest chambers before they
break in, we’re under siege now.’
With which they took the moment to reconsider what was going on. The large beast returned. Wailing
about the hour in its putrescent form, open ribbed, but with the insides of an upturned ship that had the
hollow inside, legless but moving along as if the sails were its spectral robe, that only carried along.
Darkly in the matter fact kind of way, it pushed, chained around the ribs, with many a lynching, it
dragged, what appeared to be a perilously close to an unfathomable number of nigger-skinned corpses
that were brought along.
They were of little matter now, since they squirmed, but inside their heads what was to be, it could be
heard, a sonorous chant, that would be heard by anyone who was born of dirt as it sang and drew along, it
wagered.
‘More than a little nigger, and a nigger comes to strangers.
They come in little droves, little blacks, they come and steal.
Look alive, they come to take and take away.
There’s nothing standing in their way, for that’s the life a niggers has
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He steals what he doesn’t have.
If you sees him on the streets but take him.
By the collar, in the making, hang him by the tree you must.
And lynch that nigger, down him cast.
Into most hellish escape, where his brothers might behave,
With little devils like their kind, they are,
And more than a few of them should be lynched, as far.
As niggers seem to think, it’s clear that they can’t be seen.
Not as human, human kind.
It needs to lynch disease of most benign.
Cut the cancer before it spreads, cut the nigger, now he’s dead.’
With which they aroused a mightily distraught suspicion, they were open-mouthed, bloated to spare, most
of them were made to bleed, profusely asking to be spared. But the beast would not, as much as it could
be brought inside, it rested momentarily in awe, in the corner of the house it bore itself through the last
time, which was left in such decrepitude, as to be torn to pieces, and rods of maceration pulling out of him
as if he had been storing them along. While in there, his servants but continued the assault. Being less
distraught than anything, he no longer stooped nor wasted, instead, as obvious as it could be,
condescending to such rotten skin-tension, it came. And approached for the lack of remains, it made
inside the upper rooms a fire. It came out of a bottle he carried, having had removed the lid, the creature
looked inside of it and felt it, a gloom-filled smoke that broached the skin, leaving a limp-thing to it that
felt around, within the hour. Like a fleeting leg it leapt, and jumped around the room, no fire spread, as it
was fire-proof, tempered with by hands that left marks, ritualistic symbols all around them, cave-men
paintings with little more than empty thoughts seemingly remarking the most nastily forlorn things a man
could come up with. Part of the house was taken just as soon, it would be delivered from where it stood to
the most capricious part of the world. Where the claps and pincers, elongations would but spread it
around, making sure the machinations would munch.
In the world there was quiet, but all distraught in a matter of a few glances, a few fleeting moments that
could not be controlled and made for.
Water was dangerous from the looks of it.
Even watching it from the distance yielded as many results. It popped like bubble wraps being squeezed
out, right after the after-shower water ran out through the drainage. What remained began leaving small
egg bottoms, depressed into the bath tub. Hot iron coals in skin, the wheel of torture being spun. It was
wrong, too wrong, the apartment seemed too plain to see, pictures off colors and off the placate machines.
They were there as well, floating in the air, struck frozenly by ripped-off fists which bled forever in the
moisture of the floor. The wooden cartilage turned into what seemed to be a red-filled oozing two by two,
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having shrunken until the dark edges of what seemed to be beyond the walls got drawn in. Like an open
market of organ trafficking sold by large insects whom had them put on top of linen sheets they chained
themselves to as to pull them out when the trade was needed, chains being wrapped around their insect
cartilages as well as through the edges of the sheets. From the looks of it, the flying machines were rather
stuck there only the pounding that had been frozen there, but only one arm at a time, with one exception,
in which case, who was the one who’s done the cutting? It was strange yet unexplainable unless there
were multiple people involved. This corner of the house was vaguely sealed from the rest of the general
prelate. It seemed too convenient that there was no living there to attest to what happened here. What was
even strange was the weird pattern in the glass man that was there but wasn’t. Two windows, one open,
one closed. He was in-between, in the air-projected but only seen when one somehow placed himself right
at an angle where they intersected one another. Blotches and trances, it made sense, the glass man was in
the glass eye which was inside of him, which was but a reflection in the sky. When three kinds of distinct
glasses overlapped on top of one another, an existing glass, the glass inside a glass eye, and the empty
after image left by a glass window that isn’t there any longer, a Glassman reflection may be projected in
the sky. A seagull flew just by; incapable of seeing the Glassman, it simply flew into it then fell on the
ground and died, completely being blown out into a canary-like weird pyramidical at eight tops, as it from
the hill-like mold it had become after being splashed on the ground, eight sharp shapes came out of it.
A predatory thing it was, the pyramids opened and revealed stalk-like bulbs that wrapped around one
another like strange thorn bushes. The form leaving enough to be seen, to be made out of, the hill region
of blood white feathers and cartilage, the pyramids which were the multiple beaks the creature bore, the
thorn bush region that was significantly higher than the rest of them, being placed on a slight raise of a
few centimeters above the beaks where the stalks were straight-like line-pipes, whereas the top region
looked chaotic, and squirming-black as if it was a swarm of flies that creates a small illusion of black
bands being constantly turned in place. A little extension came out of it, vaguely flying around
uncontrollably so.
Marymoor went around one of the arms, made a fountain of his put together open hands and filled it with
an ounce or two worth of blood. As he made his way past it, back the window, he saw the small speck of
a limb suddenly disappear from sight, and right as he began losing some of the blood that was already
pouring through the open gaps left between his fingers.
Clot devoured completely by flies.
‘There are defects in what I am; it is undoubtable that I am wrong, my hands are tinted with glass. They
are made of glass.’
He looked around, realizing that he was already put through one of the empty sill through which he was
already put through, again, as he turned, rightly so. It looked like he was still there, with his hands in the
open-window sill. But that corner was everywhere around him, regardless of where he turned. Marymoor
was a standing cylinder, or that’s what he saw around him. Another window, another window, another
window, another window, another window and all of them open. His arms no longer attached to his torso
but endlessly frozen in the air, with him always putting himself back together as if he were a toy; while
the ground was but made to look like overlapping sheets forming a flower, every single one of them
stacked like falling over dominoes, in a queerly set motion that wouldn’t stop. It all looked normal once
his movement lost the momentum, as he merely stopped to rethink his position.
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‘Wretched thing, are you not?’
‘I am, but who is the one asking?’
‘That would be I, for I am the one who’s been spying on your for some while now, I couldn’t help myself,
and I think we both know what the reason for it is.’
‘What did you see?’
‘Made your way through and seemed likely, as one could tell that you would do something to the
paneling in question.’
‘How much did you see?’
‘Only as far as you pulled them out, all four of the hiders; to which I can only tell you as much, you need
go out of your way and make it so they don’t hear us, not here while we’re in their hearing range. At the
very least, I think it would be something close to, indeed, ten, eight, nine, fifteen, they’re pacing around
from the sounds of it.’
And all four were there, bloated and grown, thrown around the mark, paranoid growths on top their backs,
rooks and kings on concave checkerboards, wrapped and pushed through, with little pincer-a-like matches
that were but cylindrically pushed out and inward and then extending. Control of blood and bloated little
things that followed out of light and could barely be seen, forming strange caddish necks wrapped around
their cartilage bends, always dreading to come out more than needed, always pushing out, and heeded,
they seemed to walk in panes, entering and scourge themselves inside as well, where they hide the
standing men, none of which were yet devoured, none could be pinned down or stricken after the strange
shower that followed through. Freshly bloated, one man survive, now awakened he simply leaped out of
the hovel and but entered one of the strange master, as he had in mind. To yet control and enter him as
soon as cold limbs touched the floor. It fit in like an armor, as these air parasites were wrapped around
him yet under his control by every mean. Seeping in and out, as if would do. Large bowels put through,
like little pins that struck magnet mines, and gold nuggets in the sky, with the exception of it being one of
the closest walls one could lay eyes on. Seeping through they feared; wouldn’t approach before it
happened or moved along, and before long their negrous filth could be seen, flayed and stuck to the walls
as they decorated the halls of a hunter whose adorned halls but pushed through. And little courage made
of pain, and more than enough of them just cut like little monkeys at a little taxidermist flamboyant
garden, where he’s hanged most of the queer fellows by the throats of their pets and made all melt under
heath.
‘Hearsay, hearsay, I think there’s a bottle there and there I may go, I think we should but wonder which
one.’
‘But what and what has come onto you now? What has come and where to lay and where might I make
the initial cut then?’
‘You must cut off my pocket, for that’s where I hid the liver-dimes. I hid inside them but a few little
worming delights you may come to like.
Cells are but a tool you must use and see.’
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‘What happens past the curtains? I hear noises.’
‘You need not bother.’
He was already being changed, as the parasitical embracing armor was but a call to the hidden human’s
most primitive brain as he had become, and he were to be, of wretched needs but uncannily, he was also
there, a few feet away from where he stood, like a oozing projection but he shook himself off standing,
wretched himself in place.
All the time in the world and not a single moment passed through, as to remind himself, he’s seen and
he’s been and he’s done something to get where he is, like a little man-to-do.
‘I think I’ve been spared from you, now I can walk purely wherever I wish.
You may enjoy this past body of mine, for I walk on a celestial path that may never put me in the wrong,
in tool other men might not put to use I wish not disturb about.
A soldier I am no more, I’ve paid my due and I go ahead and dine with Mor.’
Therefore and just as much, there was no question as to see the blameful face that had possessed the man
as he carried on then was lost along the way, no longer to spare and the other things that were there. SO
many of them so prettily disgusting as they came. Large and blue, blue and blue, and ultramarine, they
were popping all around and they were eerily but pigmented that way and looked so bizarre as they
appeared out of nowhere and but pigmented everything in flashy things like the pseudo glow wings that
were attached to them, although they moved as if someone was holding little basketballs or baseballs that
had metal iron-strings attached to them that could be moved everywhere where it was needed, then it
could only work this way. One could see through them but they weren’t completely transparent, as they
would appear in his brain, a man would only hear the beating of the glowing wings that were only
superficial and didn’t work at all. And they horns that were formed piece by piece then receded in and the
horns looked like fully extended fingers that came out of an ivory hand that was there and it had an ivory
eye as well that blinked with ivory fragments of ivory shrapnel that appeared in the air and in the ground
and moved about the hour, then appeared in the parasitically entranced body as he was put under their
command. Its eyes were then blue and as it happened, the blue patches that were floating in the air like
puddles left by falling drop of paint were not only weirdly peculiar, but they were but entered through by
the strange Parasitical Parasol Jo who was the initial culprit-the man with the body that was harm of evil
and put through the most derangedly obfuscate little pecker that came out of his chest, forming an even
more peculiar transformed mutation with many reeling back in-and-out heads that appeared to leap
around the room, as they but extended out of mechanical throats that were attached to the strange rounded
belts inside of them, drawing what they could from around the room, as the lights jeeringly flashed in and
out, right before the first time it had entered the first floating puddle of blue. To see it as it was, he was
but in another dimension but not entirely, one that had the entirety of the ground above him, yet he was
not entered, he was but a patch of solid tridimensional blue while he was also in the manor at the same
time, only pushing in and out when he couldn’t control himself any longer, seeing the most peculiar
flashes of pink and red and yellow glares and flares that entered his heart and filled him with such joy and
elation such, as it was likely no vile man had ever seen, dreading to enter a front of quiet and desperation
as he saw flowers and plants gloom in the most peculiar manner. Forced as if to go through trenches of
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dark, he saw little apricot-buns that were glaciered with the cold decay of a world that was left underneath
a giant pile of unnatural, hard to look at mold and rat-dust, from a time in which it had been uncanny yet
to waste. Dark hearts following through, wallowing as they suddenly gloomed and got a cheerily cherry
red apple glint and tint to them which followed through the sudden urge to look around. And all was
well.Leprous mouth and open teeth, where he waited in for hours.
He had his cartilage come distraught around his lower side of his body as well as his other side, bore a
little jar in his right hand, twenty five dynamite sticks in it.
‘Come on Frank, we’re expected.’
‘I don’t know, I think I’m going to stay in this place for a while now. I can’t explain it, but the idea of. It
just struck me but the idea of being a criminal somehow appeals to me.
Not the petty stuff but you know. Trying to brainwash people into committing mass genocide, armed
robbery, botching women’s throats split open and pissing down their drain shaft, and I think the right idea
just occurred to me right now.’
Dalton, Dalton, he kept calling it.
‘I think I’m going to shove this jar up a dumb broad’s cunt then blow myself up with her. Yeah, sounds
about right.’
Think logically now, they can’t notice you now. Don’t be nervous, they’ll be able to smell it from a
distance. His seed was his bullet, women are all robbers, whether or not it is the government, the people
or the men they’re using to get ahead in life.He had two guns with longer shafts, with bullets that curved
at the top as soon as they went out, like a smoke trail of evaporating lead.
They were aimed-reclined.
Killers are yet to kill as long as they’re dry. They are killers for as long as their first victims are dry.
Killers can only kill for as long as their first victim’s body is still warm, for as long as they survive, that is
how they die.
Neither of them made it through.
Piss-stains on the walls followed just as soon before they could stand on their arms as well.
It was far beyond their power to move, as long as they could listen to what was going on, nor would they,
nor should.
‘I see that we share a reminder, of the man who wrought this world between his eyes, it’s an eerie thing
isn’t it? In some way, no, no, I don’t think that will do.
They’re gutless?’
‘Not in terms of their body composition. ‘
‘Tall, I see the land, we are approaching.’
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Both of the supporting hardened basins appeared to hold it up. From the looks of it, at the very least a few
hundred floating platforms were barely touched, put around the rims of a satellite-belt like holding cell
that was revealed to them as soon as they approached.
Boarthram and Simmerm touched it, right beyond the rims of their fingers, before they could make a
fully-fledged contact with what seemed to be the end of the life-forms they were reeled back in, as if they
were but drawn in and out whenever the force that kept them locked inside willed it. They were incapable
of coming to their sense-arousal, everything was static to them, almost lividly dilapidated by some
manner. They were still incapable of putting themselves past it. As it drew around and finally spoke. It
was alarming, but it drew near, like a tiny blocked in place, little nurse with no face and no way of
properly being, a property of the stars, she opened her mouth, though she looked humanoid her speaking
orifice wasn’t. Widely opened and contorted like a rising tiny circles that pushed about the other half, the
farther end of her mouth being just put through so much of a less agitated mark. Slits appeared just about
it. From which came the beam-like pushes, little pockets unpacked just as soon as they were left about to
seethe through.
If there was something, if there was anything that would take the mind away, it was the strange ship-like
growth in her back, drawing out energy and little specks of light from many of the adjacent platforms
surrounding it. Living wretches like her were not to be surrounded or approached for long. They were
become the space around them, the air, seeping in and out. As they saw her become, stretched upon the
ship, as she was bore through it; no longer looking humanoid if only vaguely could it be called, no longer
could arms or legs be seen but elongations which flew around the room as they appeared to be
everywhere, just about and right beyond it. Where they couldn’t see whether or not the ends of its limbs
disintegrated or somehow were become it; I have a balcony filled with spiders and they’re as big as the
creature that stood inside of them. They are unnaturally shaped unlike this creature, giving it at the very
least the unfathomable appearance of a large deformed cracked scope in the middle, as if the organic
matter was fighting for control while being constantly subjugated by what seemed to be an unnatural
amount of dark energy that seemed into it. Yet sparkling teal-green, whitish could be seen as they popped,
as it drew about in its chest then out. Heaving around the place, seething for what seemed to be a
bothersome broad-stroke around its unnaturally set face. Dread had taken hold of her eyes, if it was a her
or that unnatural state she took was only meant to serve as the men’s most distasteful embodiment of evil,
in which case, suffice to say, it yielded as likely as there would be results.
Terrible tongue she was speaking in of ill and more malformed-in buckets kind of way she appeared to
have been fully if not nigh-entirely submerged inside that terrible thing she was become, having finally
split in the middle like a reversely blooming flower that pulled everything in and out. A bulk of strange
objects in the purple tinted almost fall through if seen below the feet kind of way, if they had actually
walked on the sight of the horizon vertically speaking. There were twenty largely concave-point at the
middle inwardly gnarly hand-like things with long stretched elongations that stopped fifty feet in front of
them before they began growing tubularly upwards, having finally receded into one of the flying pocks
that waited for it, where the growths began pumping in and out, no longer being capable of slowing down,
as the main-mass was completely encompassed with wild forms that could not be distinguished from the
most unnatural of destroying touches, many marks and many foot-hand put-through pushes finally
disabling themselves as the many body-casts death-masks without their heads began appearing from
every possible direction, being pointedly thrown at them, before they stepped back. A dark ship filled
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with utmost unnatural malformations had brought what seemed to be a single speck of mold-like grown in
petuls- most deceitful of creations, base-like plant forms with angular wrapped-in skin-beds wrapped
around them, with the pillows having grown at the top, dark plates that were but partially if not entirely
inwardly depressed as they hid hundreds of visicidious melts, as wild attempts to push away from the
bowels out of which they stood, in part-stranded, on the side-erect. As the ship opened, the strange energy
drawing creatures but reeled back in some of her limbs only to have itself planted, furthermore into one of
the ships that appeared, eight more having already made their way through, completely evacuating the sky
of the unnaturally flying-distraught creatures. Many of the platforms themselves had already puffed
themselves up as to look like wild balloons as their vigor was yet to be known, having already poised one
another for as quick as an escape as they could but put themselves through and soon after, their they were
already touched, or had touched what seemed to be a good chunk of the sky, dilapidated as it were, they
moved like air-tunnels leaving their mark behind, every second spent in the air, or the strange imitations
that could be felt just as murky in the air had but wreathed in and out, jerking as hard as it could as every
puffy-feeling surrounding it filled the sky with a guzzling scent, a strange color change having changed it
to a strange almost insides-of-a-man kind of red, although puzzlingly, it could be seen around the time
they both looked in the distance that there were plenty of stored in men whom had been taken before
them, who had been clearly mastered and put to waste before they could even come to their senses and
realized that they were slowly being conquered themselves. And it was a feeling unlike any other, one
might even describe it as being divine by some manner. As their bowels turned, as their feet were toeless
and no longer could they be placed with whatever else there laid around. No longer could they fathom
standing, or sitting or being in the same spot, as they wallowed through, almost in such a salient manner,
as they would’ve been most likely disemboweled if they even flinched at the approaching images. They
whom were like- them were brought in, though they were not men, humanoid and no creation, whom
looked like hollow-key spots from the distance until they approached. Until the hairs that made the man�casts seemed to be completely worn out as they were but soon revealed for what they were. Many of these
elongated tunnel-like things, which crawled like centipedes, or ear-crawlers were but thin inside, but they
were sponges. From the hollowness which was came, the humanoids-shapes that were put one in front of
the other in front of the other attached as If they had been standing in line inside the tunnel drew along on
a peculiar deformation-like access, from which their long work through pincer-tweezers’ like limbs
started puckering and manipulating the men in whichever ways they desired, being incapable of drawing
breath.
Boarthram was the first to pull away, thinking himself capable of withstanding what went through their
heads. He was worn out by a coughing fit that had by now completely accumulated inside his throat, be it
as it were, it was something he could not get away from by any means, having already accumulated a
great set of put-through, large tubes barely being seen before they woke up on the side of the Core. It
stood there, lodged on the side of the room, dripping as if were open, a growth of cages surrounding it, as
if they had encased themselves in an utmost severe layer of protection.
It was the failing of a moon from the looks of it, or the side of a swollen star. Rather on-set on trying to
leap about from where it stood, like a little dark eyelet in a brothel; without the means of singing, it bore.
A dark little star was it no more, for it whispered itself away. Disappearing before its time could even
draw it along the way. As much as they could breathe in what was going there, it made no difference
whatsoever.
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They could feel it even there, though there was no sign to show. Simmerm showed signs of pollution, his
mouth was openly concave, a giant tubularly faced parasite bulb-boil came out of his mouth instead, from
the insides of which a mounted turret like gun with many shoo-ta-barrel tube-like speaker appeared to
come out of with many small mechanical black hands with faces on the many joints where the segments
actioned the device appeared to come out of. As every face was but followed around by flying little face�like look-a-likes that were shaped like fairies but were the focal point of the mad signings he listened to.
He was the man dressed in a black robe with a sacrificial blade in his arm who figured that.
‘In order to make the Core appear, we must sacrifice something near the zone it disappeared in.’
‘What gave you that impression?’
‘I know it to be true, there can be no other way to get through it, I have to open this womb and slip inside
of it before I get a chance to fully breathe in the air and the musk.
I must take the coils off this waiting room, this great waiting room and become, unlike the previous
attendees, the means of carrying the sacrificial urge. And you shall help me, Boarthram, or I shall beseech
upon others that you may be locked into a tiny box. Then cut by all means I shall. Like a butler cutting a
slice of butter through a magician’s box, desperately trying to saw it in half only to give up half-way
through once realizing there’s no butter in.’
‘What do you expect to get out of this?’
‘I do not know but I can feel something in the core, something beating, desperate to fight, something
that’s caged in, fought and wrought against by dead giants, I can see them, even though you may not
believe me, I can feel their presence oozing inside my very chest, moving along and wreathing in, out,
then stopping.
I can near a time where I may be able to touch them. Ever so near that my heart beckons a return to a
much more primordial state where I am but a cave dweller, a thing that cannot be blasphemed any longer,
tormented as I am, a servant that’s to be put down before his time has come yet.’
‘What do you see in it?’
‘I see nothing and I can feel nothing.
But at the same time I do, you must believe me Boar, it’s in my mind, it’s always been in there, always
forcing my head to decay, always bringing the darkest of thoughts. Clawing at my throat as it desires to
pull me down and wreathe me into the barracks of evil and of despair, to shove inside of me the most
unnatural of gulls, that were to be and enter as well.’
It was a steal, but so were the rooms. All of them taken from another world, it seemed. All of them
broken, and misguided within the mark of the hour where they swam inside the first of the insidious lulls
of meatiness-plastic they entered through. Slowly making their way through what seemed to be largely
plasticized little moist-antlers, put down, all of the herds were munched upon by tall, incredibly tall
creatures, red ogre like things, tall and hunched with a few ugly looking eyes strapped randomly across
their faces and foreheads, red-burnt tawny, large teeth protruding, multiple chewing jaws and multiple
sets of teeth all thudding along as they began munching on the bones they picked from inside the now
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emerging muck. They were but drooling over, chewing their own lips during the process, on their broken
teeth, as such. It was a strange room, the tapestry was but a purple coffin shape but stamped multiple
times, sometimes opening, releasing little cat-eaten like mummified dwarf bodies, soon to be ingested as
they were lowered from such a depth, a few more than a few hundred meters in the air, where a strange
flatly-bloated incessant creature with an umbilical-cord like eater shaped like a corkscrew with a sharp
sting but penetrated the little creature and ate it from within, like a madly wrought arachnid watched,
whom bore his head by chains, lowering it slowly before he could have time to latch upon anything else.
In its mouth there was as much as eighteen volts, this was the light machine apparently, which was
extracting power from the dwarfs that swam in the pools of dirt.
‘I think we are being visited.’
Simmer said, and as he looked around he saw, he noticed that the door was still open as well. Somehow
incapable of making it past the door no more, there was nothing falling on the other side. But this was no
room after the far edges that pushed forth, but appeared to lead to some peculiar stony-murk land,
stretching for miles, no world and no sky but a mightily defiled out-stretch of space, where the stars stood
there oozing in and out before their time was come to leap away. In its elliptical gaze there wasn’t much,
for every short hour was about the last one he could feel, en trance as he were, he was no longer mourned
and walked thoroughly on peg-walls.
‘Listen to me Boar, we’re being followed.’
As soon as they turned they saw the lower ends of the giants, being thoroughly shocked at the
blasphemous reddened-like bearings they had to themselves, the strange almost contorted spear-shafts
they seemed to walk upon, hundreds of them, all made of cartilage and of skin, painful to look at and to
listen to the thousands of incessant poundings they gave in.
´So what? I don’t think I can move anymore.’
‘Why, what happened?’
‘I can’t see that well anymore.’
He took a second more to gather his strength.
Neither of them understood just what was happening or the conundrum they were in. They were in a
slump if one at all.
He slowed down too much.
‘I can’t see anything past this point. I feel as if it’s become an obsession at this point in time. How could
you understand it?
Over the past few months I’ve been having this recurring dream I can never escape out of, no matter how
hard I try, it’s inevitable. I know I am trapped but I still can’t get it out of my head.
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I don’t know why. I’m always making my way towards the States, riding the tram, a dynamite belt around
my chest, twenty, fifty or a few hundred of them. A bag filled with nitroglycerine filled jars, and an old
vintage revolver in my right hand pointing at it.
At the very least, you know.’ He smiled just thinking about it. ‘The dynamites all have my name embed
on them, as if I’m not intending on simply blowing myself and the Rockefeller building off, nor sir.
Instead, I want to put on a show, I kind of want my fifteen short lived minutes of fame. I want to be a
rockstar, you know? It’s the finality of that event that sells it in, my incapability of escaping the racial
impulses I inherited from my ancestors finally taking over me during a prolonged violent outburst. I keep
thinking on how I’m just going to end up badly, end up hurting, killing and destroying a lot of lives
because I see the same traits in those people that I see in myself. I’ve come to realize that I was wrong,
after all, man is capable of change; I am not. At the end of the day these will always end up being empty
words; my actions will speak louder than anything else, that is to say. I cannot change the past, I cannot
change the present, I cannot change the future either.
I am always going to be a member of the evil race, boy. It’s just how a nigger may always try shedding its
shade off but will always be the sole inheritor of the soul of a nigger, or lack thereof.
It is a dilemma I cannot figure the solution of and that’s the reason I don’t think you’ll ever be capable of
understanding why I chose to slow down and stop. It is the fact that I know my place in this world; it is
being aware that it doesn’t matter whether or not I’m an unintelligent, moronic, uneducated person, in
other words being self aware, but being aware of the possibility that I could conceive something that
could result in harming a lot of people and whether or not I ought to continue with that kind of conduct.
There are a lot of things that are unforgivable in this world now that I come to think of it. And creating
something of malicious intent is but one of them; I don’t know. I’m not capable of fixing anything from
the looks of it. At times I simply feel as if I’m a petty criminal and nothing more; thankfully I’m too
insipid and useless to be capable of doing anything serious, it is the only solace I find refuge in. Knowing
I won’t end up killing millions, knowing that I won’t create chaos, knowing that I won’t start wars,
ideologies, and being a no one and a fuck up, being poor is the only thing that gave me half a mind and
the only thing that’s made me ever so slightly honest.’
‘Are you done yet? I feel like you’re, I feel like you’re making a scene for the sake of it.’
‘Then I am going to change, for the worst, I will do my best to catch up and I am never going to stop until
I will have killed millions of people.’
‘Well good for you, at the very least it will be a better change of pace than complaining, won’t it?’
‘Then let us leave this house and let us make way, my dear companion, Hugh, I think with thine help, I
shall bring destruction upon this world. I shall bring only darkness in the heart of man, and it will never
stop of wreathe away!
I shall cast all into darkness at all cost!’
He considered as much, as it was the only logical conclusion he could ever reach.
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‘There is only one thing left for me to do. I shall become a dark sorcerer of the Nigger Killing Element
and spread darkness and despair across the world!
For there is power in lynching and skinning niggers alive, and fucking their kids as well as putting them
down.
Why, I wager, if I ever become rich, I will do my well honest to God, as my honestly given responsibility
there is, to kill, slaughter and destroy as many lives as I possibly can, I will and I promise. Not only does
money and power corrupt, not only am I too weak to actually resist those influences but I will also do it,
exactly as my racial characteristics and traits dictate me to do as such, out of spite, on purpose, as
malicious as possible, for no reason whatsoever other than being born evil, acting in an extremely beyond
and over exaggerated sociopathic manner but also, I may as well just say this, I am going to act as self�destructively, most assuredly antagonistic to a comical level until I will have become or attained the status
of evil, having become a living canard that will instill hatred for my own ‘people’ from this point on, in
the future and until the end of time when they will have either become extinct, exterminated or simply,
ethnically cleansed.’
‘Marvelous.’
‘Indeed it is and you shall help me attained the needed wealth that I may bring destruction over all
mankind.’
‘Why am I going to do that then?’
‘Because you’re the only creature in this world capable of empathy, and I’m going to exploit that because
that is what I am and because it will make my life slightly more interesting.’
Then there was the entry that was most required since there was no reason to lay anywhere else. Always
of a mind to lie and cheat, he opened the lower throat which was placed inside his chest, having already
made the necessary cuts as his fingers were as scalpels, always taken from one side to the other, whenever
it was needed, he would bite.
‘I think I’ve come to understand what this world is made of.’
‘What about it interests you the most?’
‘I do not know, perhaps it’s that, isn’t it? It must certainly be something I could always point and grasp at,
you would do me a kindness, now.’
‘Is there something you need?’
‘Pick that leave off the ground.’
They exited through one of the windows, having broken half of the hall they entered through, only so they
could exit out the other side of a much greater, unfathomable end, a beast that had beseeched upon itself
to open and draw breath. It was seen, it was open, it was split and it could only do whatever it could in
order to spread its anchored-in filth beads, those tiny eye-lids being out, instead of thin-thin elongated
wretches, and long-headed put-together barely legible features, which, in all honesty were quite a few to
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begin with, always trying themselves out. It was a change, all of the sudden, the sun was up and it was
worming, like a painting ruined, colors fading, the canvas no longer being filled with paint and oils, no
longer would the restorers be portending as to repair every missing piece and crack and what about was
there if not, brought to their heads, it was obvious that no man would even know what happened, if only
they knew what to cut.
‘The Restorers are still there, I see.’
They were open-jar bodied, and little humans swarms inside of them in the billions like insects caught and
long devouring themselves. Such a frail symbol of scum they were, the sum of every single one of them
being only added to the deterrence that was decay, all of their limbs falling off and squirming as they
were become, along their way, evolved and allowed lives of their own, it was only a chance, but one had
to ask. Where they came from and how long until they would reach again and make another cut and all
looked so different, too different, new was exciting, and the fat lumped creature that was him, Klicks
Knicks, reeked of looking.
He saw all of the limbs become, and watched with just as much jealousy as he could, incapable of turning
and mourning what was done and of lesser worth, he asked.
‘Where and how? ‘
‘How about the hour?’
‘What do you see in front of you now? ‘
‘What do you want me to see instead?’
‘Instead of what?’
‘The dark glooming god I see, he made a hole with the horn that was entered through the, through the,
you know what it is.’
‘A slight chance that might take from me, that might take out of me whatever I see, there’s something in
there, isn’t there?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I am so excited, I’ve never seen something so strange before, it’s out of this world.’
‘Open your head now.’
He did take his time doing it, as his talons contorted as to look as if he hid, and took, his mouth agape.
‘Something happen, yet I see.’
He made an open wound out of which came disease. And there were all kinds of unnaturally shaped, more
than dejected, fantasies to no end.
‘I can still hear it.’
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‘What is it that you hear now?’
‘I need to hid in another body, I need yet take what I can and claim what I want.’
With which Klicks but simply slit his eyes in the most unnecessary way, it could only be conveyed as
such, he could only draw and lay and become whatever enter his line of sight, a mirror of water, a pool in
which he swam, there was no end to what he could become.
‘The wound has finally come to facilitate in my view, whatever else there is, I see no other reason to
claim otherwise, and claim it as it might be.’
His hide was made of something better, it could only drag itself and move away. From the front of the
rummaged in falchion – like entry, there was a depression that had pushed in, farther into the ground as
well, even farther and farther away, there were at the very least, the entries of which, many beasts,
would’ve made their home, if there was a slit, it would’ve been found as well as it could be abandoned,
yet again, abandoned so.
In the heart of it stood a great thing, that could barely be made and could barely move along its feet.
Thine, for what was worth it, scepter of evil bemused to be listened to during evil hour, when most
abhorrent of lays were beckoned to be wrought inside and wrapped around the trees as well as the coming
of the evil days was already become, as one might feel there’s little hope and little less with every
drawing moment to draw away as he had but pulled it out of a rooted hole, which had been dropped by
misty blow coming from hardened steamed, mightily made by swollen fist and left behind to watch.
Neither men could but understand whom and what was the meaning of that one that drove through, as far
as he could reach until incapable of drawing through, his fist but lacerated, damned; but its remains but
pushed around – partially rotten in the most capricious manner.
‘I must say that, with supreme conviction, I’ve come to realize that this filthy foot-hole that’s been driven
through and corkscrewed by force is but left by him.’
Who floated above them, although ripped around the ankles and without a reason to be seen, it was
mightily clear and even less adjustably so, completely broken and largely demoralized as to what the
creature had begun looking at. Its heads tendons were missing and there was a large patch that had been
covered just about the place in which it stood. There were other longer hooligan spear-chucker rods that
drove through the entirety of its body, that appeared to seep in and out, clearly making a most unnatural
river-like bloody sound once finally released from the tap it was set in. Gritty teeth grinded to a conceit,
thoroughly until the shrapnel enamel was come to a pudgy yellow; but that those features were rather
dragged along its body from a shapeless head, and a cut through throat that looked like a murkily
murdered piece of fetal alcohol syndrome – naturalization that gave it an unnatural uncanny look despite
their migratory movement, in which case there might’ve been a good enough case for either one of them
to stop and prevent themselves from drawing in and out and the others. Since there seemed to be hole-like
star entries pushing out of the main river-cut that’s been pushed through, many of the wasp-like flying
blotches, of which strange color was but a mighty greenish-red were but completely inserted into it,
devouring as they please. At the end of the stump which, without a doubt, was the same entry – exit point
where the front side of the robust paw that entered the land, they were seen. Presently eating; both men
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decided it would be rude to disturb them since there was no reason, absolutely no reason whatsoever to do
such a thing as to, well said.
‘I think this rod should help me.’
‘Taken from a trunk, I see, are you certain there’s nothing dangerous about it?’
‘What danger could there be of a broken rod like it?’
‘It’s a stump and we’ve already cross the bank.’
Rightly so; only a few feet waited from that point on. It was an unnecessary thing to watch. They were
just like them on the sides, like replicas. It was hard to tell them apart, or as a matter of fact, it was hard to
tell the delimitation apart. A cut-like the shape of Hungary allowed for the land to stand out. Attached to
the trees were long wedges of skin that connected to the sides of men where various projections of Kurt
and Klicks were being made, yet there were no hands or arms, no stumps, only that long flipped slide they
looked at. It was enough for them to understand.
Open-through just like a plaintiff door, they came about the ribs of it and entered through just as soon as
they could have themselves through, as more followed. A stair-depression led them down, there was no
star and no end.
‘We’re being followed, I think. ‘
‘We’ve been followed for some time now, but not by whom you think, or that you came to observe either.
It’s the rod, I’m the one of who’s stalking you. I’m also there, I’m also here.’
Again, Klicks pointed at the rod, as if it bore a big red tapped gloomy ball on top of it.
They were just as soon entered a giant bird they found no reason to delay the inevitable flight. It was
empty on the inside, other than the floor-organs that were all piled on and sutured together and the
weirdly rotating strange fight-dummy things of black metal whose but spinning hit-a-mole extending
tongue pummels were close to touching either one of them.
´Wait, before we leave, what if. What if I’m not really a kike? I actually do not know. Hmm, I could be in
grave danger if I am not, there are vile things I may not be able of getting away with, if I weren’t. It just
occurred to me so.
Why, I.
My phenotype is bizarre, yes, that must be it. And the degeneracy I’ve read about, that I’ve been studying,
it must be so, I think. There’s no other reason for it.
And you must of the darkness that is in my heart, nonetheless.’
Before he opened his mouth, eight thirds of his body were become the back of the bird, having become a
giantly wrought it hole-maker with many puckers and bucket-heads.
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Both drew in a few trees and made way towards the flight of skin-trees.
It is clear that it must be so, the plight that is the schizophrenia, the plaguing neuroticism as well as the
bastardly set-in control of the opposition flow through my bloody veins. I am plagued by this evil
degenerating spirit that consumes me so. Even the block of skin I am trapped further bloats my veins, he
thought.
As the many pucker mouths appeared, all of the sudden they were become again, and wreathed in, as well
as they could lay themselves wherever they reigned.
Genetic-decay
‘Even since I was a child, I began fantasizing about being a criminal. I can’t pin-point the exact location,
but I suppose that will make as little of a difference as there is.’
Like all of his malignant dark race, he infiltrated in skin and plot, wore humans and was quasi-alike to
them, but always of a mind to manipulate. Next to him stood another tool to his employ; a different tool
for every watcher, he was gray and tall, a race of sapiens that were head-in, put through some jar, all but
molded, drawing in and away. Couldn’t make the proper directions, for every head that was appeared
around him spoke a different tune. And they were many and always coming into view. Their sight; part of
the city-plains, flattened, and only a few huts were put everywhere and most of them were rather savvy�skinned and made of jolts, and little creatures popping, being pucker-blue violet-red. Dressed in a
placenta-like eely-stuff that was brought instead; but neither of them was safe, nor would their lives be
completely protected, alleviated from what was happening between the two of them or the exchange.
Soon, both forcefully bowed and made to leap around be; chained like pecks.
Made together to be clustered as they were become, joined by a test and eaten in part, whereas the most
unnatural of cords and plenty of unnatural shapes were worn out, then put in stoves, brought it and
worming it to structure. A mine and a mole and plenty of bodies that had been born, and carpets, high�raised roofs and large monsoons of canaries all but adding up; pincers adorning the great jewels of
bloated-fingers put in pus, pushed around and beating as the masses were but traced around, and cast. Into
the dark of the ravine, there came. Mutinous cable-pains, many added to the grain that was become, the
skinless thing started wreathing in and out, before they sapped the meat, from there it winced. Many
rivers of flowing specks, and many others came out as well. The land was but a frame of what it used to
be, many of the buildings were brought down upon disease, still flapping unnatural winged, cordially put
down trenches-dug. In the surroundings mounds, lesser flying desperate to be in sight, and little more than
unnaturally deformed procrastinating casts. It just so happened for a birth to occur, seeing how the three
strangers were but killed before they could push him out, stranger, yet obscure.
‘Mlesskl Lhur, you are released from sitting in your spot. Thine will is evil, and you are brought back to
life. Thine will is pain so you may seek each man there is out there to inflict as much of it as you may.
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Thine will is weak, thence you might find a spine. Thine eye-sight of all needs be corrected or you shall
become, as they say, without a mind to fully indulge, of what is happening around you and what is
become all, little subterfuge.’
Most importantly, it was cold there, and wretched.
‘I’ve come to collect my due, if one doesn’t share, you ought to.’
At dawn the party came and gathered around before one of the moons was being wreathed in, they were
little plaster-puddles hardened as they came to view, many of the eely-eyed, eerie as they came around
opening one at a time, largely mechanic on the inside.
Only a handful of them were wretched.
Lo’ and what came after them was brought from farther on and put behind, when blinded by whatever
light, for light-bulb pointing from the insides of thee fleshy moons that swooned around.
A man of all, a man of old, him but wretched hasn’t told.
‘I wonder and I won’t miss as many, even lesser, it shouldn’t count for any, I see and need be heard at
last, before we venture through its thorough insides.’
But, for what was worth and what were fewer, and fewer men were to come around and make a case of
what was brought. It was necessary to think and let alone believe this Jopnak Pouch, he had but come at
last, and let alone, a watch.
‘I must confess, I’ve been avoiding them and I may not be able to make it any other way, for I know I
shall be bored with dames.
It’s for that reason that I must be left alone and walk as well. The further away, the better, for I am
incapable of committing over the longest of whiles, you must understand that about me, good friend, I
may not be capable of wedding your sister by any means at all.
Though that may harden the disease, and make us mean, by all accounts, it’s something I may not be
capable of making out, or making off by myself. It’s unfair towards whichever woe.
I cannot stand for that long and I may never be able to force myself to stay, and look, along the way, what
if there was a child? What if there was a lump of my own I would not be capable of raising myself? It’s
saddens me to think as less, but that’s something I simply cannot deal with, raising one, and trying to best
others while neglecting him, without caress.
Alas, I think that is as much, there’s just no company I can keep around for long a while.’
‘But that doesn’t mean you may not be able to join us in our journey, doesn’t it? This is as much as we
have now, for a short enough mind, there’s but purity to it and a properly working brain that won’t get left
behind. I understand, my dear good fellow and I must alert you that I won’t feel any kind of disconnect
from what’s to happen. I fully realize that you might abandon, and I accept your treaty, as fairness is to
come.
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Just take a step forward now.’
‘I can’t, I don’t know why, it’s as if I’m frozen in here, and I can’t get my pacing right, if I walk too fast
I’ll stumble over, if I am too slow it won’t matter any longer.
So what is my alternative then?’
‘Whatever you do, please do not stay there, since there’s a grander world to see, do not seethe for things
that weren’t meant to be. Come here, please, don’t aggrandize.’
‘I don’t know then, I’d rather be alone in that case, if you don’t mind. I think I ought to walk alone for a
while if you don’t mind it.’
‘I won’t, but then I bid you fare well, we shall make it through this grand concave and see what lays
beyond the unawares.’
With which they left the men and boded as such. As soon as the door opened, alas, but a valley in size, the
sides were worn, but desperately boded, wreathed along and despairingly bloated. Many roots were up
and down, there was a sky, they were around, no place like it by any means, wherever they had been,
there was no certain way to lay within.
Before a long way, before a mile, what they had been brought forward to was but a seeping tile, a pair of
them on earth like flocks, and many birds dead that were but reanimated as to seethe and lock, each other
off, incapable of prodding on.
From one of them, as such but followed, whatever he had been cast away, and would return, the day after,
left alone tomorrow, there would be a cast, something to be worn out, he came at last. Shown up from the
larger depths and made to wreathe in and out, as if they were dead. Or had been for a mighty lash, and
everything about the ordeal smelled of rancid cast.
It bore itself up and spoke, alarmingly so.
‘You’ve come within reason to ask me for a stay, you though there was something up here, the land is but
the way it stays.
There will be no change, no higher-houses raised after I’m but done contorting, there will be nothing else
other and none to shatter whatever you are looking yonder and for that I ask of you to wait.
Nothing else might come underway, not if you stay both of your hands, they’re worn out, I see.’
‘I’ve been doing some gardening.’ Said Drovsky, he tried crying out a single name, something that he
could bastardly spare, but there was no reason to seep in, there was nothing going on for him. It was
simply there.
A lump on his heart he was unaware off. Despite the fact that every man who was around seemed to be,
as alert as they could possibly see, there was just as much as they could do, it was not to be put on their
shoulders, but who saw him last? Where was the man and where did he hide?
Always living in that little spot, always living in the dark.
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There were largely decayed and stone-bottled large structures, many stones lumped and barely put
together, all dilapidated and repaved. Put down to walk on, with the lichens and the dead remains.
Great of men and graven more; it was those that were there the longest who were known.
Drovsky stopped and turned to fiend, he fired a glance and deeply within.
‘Who’s responsible for carving their names?’
‘That is for neither man to know, nor ask. That is for neither one to realize. You’re but a speck, a derelict
that cannot see far ahead, or you would’ve chosen to stay.’
‘Have I left yet?’
‘It’s undergoing either away and that much you should be aware off, it’s something I cannot delay,
though the other men will stay.’
‘Why must I be the one who returns yonder?’
‘Because you still feel some responsibility that is far stronger than common sense; it’s just what you are
like and nothing might take it away.’
‘Will he listen to me?’
‘Perhaps not, stubbornness and foolishness may play a role in that.’
‘Will I be happy if I were to save him?’
‘Only as miserable as you know you’d be, even before asking me.’
Whom to forget what opened there, in the midst of where they spread and spare, of seconds more,
appeared. The fiend with a lanker soul and would to disappear yet on sight.
There is a locked house of mental illness in Beirut. It’s hard to point where it starts and where to begin,
but as long as there was something in to do.
A door opened on the side, from the draw-in forward came only a clam-chum, whose name was Smith.
‘We’ve been waiting for you for some time now.’
‘Who’s asking what?’
‘I am.’
As soon as it happened, the bird had already landed on top the roof, toe-in-deep, having already taken the
head-piece that had been left on top of it. There was no reason to stare, there were only a few men present
escorting him as well as a few more than unneeded, unnecessary witnesses that drew on. They were
Informants, by the looks of it.
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All speaking of the core, and the core was infested, the core would talk of the most dreadful and most
immaterial of all, it couldn’t be set in place, the core was rotten, the core was theirs.
‘Whom to speak in the name of the core and what is to be fed to it as the time draws on?’
‘One of the filthiest of things can be put inside, those that ought not to live, those that have to be defiled
and run down at our feet, there is no question about it. As long as their hearts were rotten, there was a
slight chance to be.’
And the first of the molded anchors, in his heart, he laid, much more prettily, it could.
A fashioned man which bore his back shook, he appeared out of nowhere, mainly with a cut. Which had
been brought to his awareness, there was something one could not see well.
‘I see you brought someone else as well.’
Neither of them could understand what happened there or anywhere, else this could be just as set.
Yet the creature couldn’t help it. Man-shaped mold, with a tiny core inside his back, growths sprouting
out of it, like a cunt-slit across his rack, from there a rail-like push through delivered, and little more of it,
could be. Many hands and many reapers, came as long as they could be released. Many of the outlandish
growths were insufferably set across the full extension of its host. It couldn’t move properly from that
point on, let alone make it so it could move whenever it liked.
They were not there for any other reason, nor could there be another; yet the core was left behind the
birth, as Mongol’s wrath seemed to seep through dirt.
It pushed through crags, and many briar, many other remains that pushed through the mire.
The mirthful creature only stood, at once as it appeared to move, across it shook, no longer swaying for a
watch, no longer filled with incertitude and better yet, caught.
It appeared like the Mongolic protrusions, the many illusionary things, the features and the molds and the
many other mongrellic growths and allusions seeped out. They crept about, the sphere, the core was
suddenly lost. No longer but a womb but egg, no longer caught and no longer filled with seeping dread. It
poisoned all, and seemed to drag. And Mongol then again declared, the emperor of all.
‘You’ of all are to serve now, and you shall do as I say, or else I of all shall enter thine heart and push it
inside your filthy marks, and make you as I please.
Contort you with the bitter filth, until you will have become but naught, a race impure as mindless as you
are distraught.’
‘But who are you, dark creature?’
And yet it could it be seen. As if the man was standing there like a rat-looking weasel, with the fully set
protrusion that rested there, without confusion, its arms were connected to the pseudo core, fully if not
fully absorbed, set inside and yet devoured, like tiny pucker growths that couldn’t be admired, little more
than set they were, filthy and distraught and even more so, damned as well. Pumping but meat, filling the
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features that were seethe, many elongations of other shapes came and followed after, right until the point
where the elongations between its legs appeared to come after. They molded and forged, liquefied all but
never drew on as to show some pain or sutures, his form was set.
First of all eight heads that came in the front were as dreadful as they pushed on, with the more Orientalid
of features that could be set, their unnatural vigor and beady eyes were dead.
‘I seek too infest this world with as many filthy things as I can shove on.’
For the world was pure until the apparition of the dreadfully malign creatures that were made to appear,
many of whom were set near the purity of the world. Were made to bring destruction and discord among
all pure of men, as the corruption drew on.
The earth was pure, but then it was corrupted, all the dark races were but shoved on as for the will of evil
to be enacted.
Thence it happened, for there to come forth.
A myriad of unnatural beings, the Asiatics of his kin, so on:
His servants were but many.
But many of them no longer showed their initial features and epicanthic folds, which seemed to wear,
even their mongoloid features appeared to move on instead, in a different direction, wholly spread on
either side, longer as their faces were drawn, as far as they could be tried. Yet they carried their arms
longer, despite their short statures, many were but long-backs, from whence there sprouted their many
legs and cracks. They spilled. But skin and cartilage upon the bile of which, they only carried. All the fat
added on, and they were molded, wherever else.
It was how the insects bred. No longer forced to adhere to the rule of a single child, instead, they carried
but themselves, all but hundreds upon hundreds upon millions of lookalikes, within a single carrier, that
moved on. Viruses were carried, but that was expected.
All but served, without a need to ask or question.
‘They have been trained well, as well as you could see.’
All of the sudden, upon the elongated core there was as much as one could see, a giant unnatural, thing, a
consistent giant face of which basin could be seen, and deep sockets, as that of a Semite, yet the
Mongoloid eyes were still to be recognized. A breed of some long forgotten, long destined to mental
injunction disease, a Eurasian prince of much decay that baffled everyone present, as well as everyone
since. Since there were but many mouths that shot, lips and rat ears that fully protruded out completely
yet not the upper side alone, a smile that would push fully so, a bottom puffy thing that sunk. Yet the
mongoloid eyes could not be denied. If one were to see the growths of hairs, they could notice the sub
humanity of a tiny speck, a Negro thrown along the mix, he was but shuffled on, drooled and winked in a
most tiny short manner.
‘I’ve seen to it that the entire world is but infested.
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My traps of metal but to be set and used, as I protested upon the likes to enter, I see no better reason to
shove away.’
‘What have you done, dark creature?’
‘I’ve made use of this core to further spread my decay.’
‘And whom master do you serve?’
‘It’s of little consequence that you know.’
He said and little faith in the matter painted a smile most abstract. It was pitiful and disgusting, disturbing
even yet to see, the malign thing and how it spoke from there on after, and what else could one be if not
petty, if not dark, if not arrogant, therefore on. It dreaded to crawl forward, changing in shape, no longer
simply yet filthily erect.
‘There is no future in hybridization.’
‘And that’s only but a thing that needs to happen for him to come to power, hide. It’s the will of my
master which I carry on through will and time just so everything he wills upon this world be brought on.
It’s something that’s yet to happen yet it needs be forced by all means, it needs not be contained within, it
needs not be feared, as I will it.
As he wills it, that being said so, it will happen nonetheless.’
‘There will be consequences and you shall be stopped!’
Therefore Mongol only drew on forward, ill in mind.Why, bloated streets angered all that looked
everywhere around, it spread. Like a derelict thing incapable of moving or conversing about what
happened, a pretentiously penitent fuck with little to nothing to its face, about the middle of the door.
‘Why has the core not spoken of you, so?’
‘It has, it has and now it moved and drags us all along.’
It said, but neither man understood either.
As peculiar as it had been, it shook.
With the ritual underway, over the top of the chasm stood a core, inside of which stood Mongol; he
seeped in.
‘For the good of the world we must kill it, that is the only way we may, yet to live another day.’
‘And what exactly is supposed to happen after? As soon as its body is done decomposing in the air?
As soon as its subhumanity is to be put back where it belongs instead?’
‘We cannot know for certain, and as a matter of fact we may yet to wait and see what happens after.’
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‘Then let us proceed if that’s the case, let us wait no second longer before the time draws on from that
point on.’ And then, they brought their hands forward, extending but an arm’s span, many of them
bearing longer hatchets and some of them blades as well as draw-bearded hammocks, frozen solidly with
rocks, to fling against the body they assaulted. Giant Goliaths followed after. Many of them pounding as
hard as they neither could, incapable of drawing away, nor could they shook at what had happened. With
every disastrous hand, that came as long as they could adapt to what happened there, what was soon
placed in turn lay down, like a myriad of dark blows reminding them that what they’ve done shattered the
ground with such a loathsome force that it split as soon as the pulmonary tract-towers, the antennae
shaped blocks of power, risen to commute with the land, painting the green grass in a decrepit mass,
barely put together and flung around as more followed through, bastardly spreading as they could but be
incapable of stopping half-way through.
Yet the adjacent lands, though split among them didn’t shatter, didn’t fall, instead it made way for either
one of them to enter as soon as they could allow for them to start again.
‘Keep beating on the corpse of Mongol, we must break him by all means. Butcher him entirely, we must
until it no longer seeps.’
Within every blow between the soles and the sides of the sack, a part of its malignant body started falling,
as it tore itself apart, ever so derangedly more, until finally all blows were struck and stopped, and there
on after, what had happened, from the bloated way, in and out it started swinging, like a cradled child, a
fetus that would refuse itself the misgiving.
‘I shall not allow myself to be destroyed just yet, not while there’s still something to look after, better yet,
now I return and crawl and I shall not leave myself exposed just yet, not before the time was brought on
my terms.’
With which as if it were a slithery snake, it started eerily slipping through and into the black pool of the
deranged chasm it went.
Past through what seemed to be the completely dead and forgotten side. There was no life, yet the core
was still above, caught between each glimpse and side.
As it happened for the sack-tadpole to push through, what seemed to have cut through everything that
might’ve been misused and changed, again and again, something drew on after, mixing with each echo of
laughter for the voices that died off.
There stood the entry of an Island, standing, ripped apart, the men taken out and hanging on tables, doped,
and filled with morphine, they cackled as well, larger things above them entered through the waste of air.
Above and beyond as he seeped it, suddenly split, the tadpole weeping as if in pain, jerking on the ground
as eerie large pylon-like nails were to enter it from every side and every single thing as well.
Signs of blue coils, and of weather- like wind and fluttering spoils of purple-blue, of spells and of
emptiness cradling as if they were called on cue, they followed after.
And Mongol soon brought himself to waste, as useless as it had looked, there was no doubt about him
being as weak as he claimed.
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‘Why am I punished now?’
‘You failed me, you ingratiated being? Your spoils are done.’
But it was no living voice that spoke to him and no other way to understand.
On one side of the Island, the entries to the broken blocs, and many of the movers but impaled by spoiled
cylinders that twisted and mixed around. On another, followed through the break, the corpses of many, all
piled away, though many of them repurposed and turned into homes. A lighthouse could be seen amongst
many where the living yet came to rose. Yet one another, twisted, all the dead things, brought to life, but
undefeated.
‘A chaos caused by the core!’
Yelled a man, having come and stumbled upon the realization that the core, the birth was but twisted and
but spoiled, as the men kept puncturing it above, they have come to see. And bid him the time, and be
made aware of what was happening around them. There were no chains to hold the Island from falling, no
pit to fall on top of, there were some pillars that receded underneath them and partial humanoid flyers that
were but long defeated and at their feet, rested the world.
A body that was prolonged, one connected but too rottenly wasted, just like everything else around their
mournful songs.
There was something of a molded shape, one that formed a pyramid of a bridge, slightly fallen, broken
through and rotten.
Many slaves having been brought from there as well, all bearing the dead-bodies and long-infested,
darkly yet demented imbeciles that were defiled; fending off the bile, it rose.
‘Unfortunately, you’ve already been completely killed.’
‘But such a vile thing, how could that be?’
‘Death was permitted in your case.’ Said a bile, a man that was not only morbid, but seemingly defiled
from the looks of which, the crag he was in.
Charles, seemed to be up there.
Though his back body was that of Blue, a strange suit, hollow all the way through, opened and revealed as
such, as if he were a maiden made of iron, or a torture device, with all the spikes.
‘Things have changed and so is the world here.’
‘So it is not dead, in that case.’
‘It’s only filled with corpses and a few survivors, nothing more and nothing less. There are families and
many survivors, as the destruction turned out to be a failure nonetheless.
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Stronger men and greater fighters made it through, though many are even less recognizable that we’d like
to know it so, all the way through, we made it.’
But alas, as Mongol started pushing out, lifting itself up as to avoid, the many pins that followed after,
soon enough they lost whatever filthy joy was there to begin with.
This world was completely infested by a plague.
‘You’re not alive, nothing is down where, how dare you claim otherwise?’
But there were no signs of there being anything but a rotten thing that shaped itself like the man, like
every single one of them that approached after.
‘Poisoned, everything is poisoned here, isn’t it?’
But where? What place would be safe from this dark plague that corrupted all? There was no grace and
nothing, nothing salvageable, all was distraught and buried on.
The chasm remained in its place, wrapped around the towers and formations that kept men from going out
their way towards it.
Where else could there be?
‘Rotten cadavers, that is all I see down there; the corruption has already spread, I see, there’s no breaking
of the core, there’s no killing Mongol, now that he’s escaped, there’s only waiting now, to see whether or
not the corruption has spread beyond it.’
And as soon as men stood there, contemplating how to act, they simply started shedding away their
number, slowly fading away from the area. It was completely missed.
Farther in the distance, long before a deep refuge, inside eye-grovel stood, above the rims of air, the
citadels that shook, all watching over the chasm, all chained to the ground, held from falling down, buried
away.
One of the men was stopped while running.
‘There is no way to contain all this, you understand?
There’s always going to be something seeping in.’
‘It is our fate alone, we cannot escape it, no matter where we go.’
How could one even trust him from that point on? Lying bastards, and backstabbers, all of them, all
caused by it, no doubt, no less.
It was something, close to a realization, just what and when?
‘What then?’
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‘I do not know just yet, but I will find out soon enough, I won’t be as sleazy as to forget what my goal is,
and I shall stop at nothing to attain it.’
Said the man and right before he could be grabbed by his shoulder, he was just as soon, gone. Lost around
the area where he had been initially found, but there wasn’t any trace of either one as soon as the area
shook. It started spreading like a hot-iron mark on top the skin, breaking everything down to the nearest
crook. They fled. And in that night many men found themselves alone, brooding, ruminating at what
happened.
The apparent fall of Mongol seemed to change nothing. Apparent ill could still be seen, like a disease
nowhere near being spilled or being cured. There was no bastardly thing that could be wiped away and
completely removed, there was no interest in completely nullifying or suppressing it before it had a
chance to spread, within the hour, most found themselves standing alone, wasting away. Incapable of
even being changed, they seemed to be part-cloth, not fused with them, but just as torn apart as they were,
falling apart with everything else, always a button falling, always being made to waste.
As soon as Acheron stopped coughing, he looked ahead. A slit of light came from the front, it was
blocked instead by the outline of a great slipping in shadow that just as soon started pushing in. There was
no attempt to reconcile with what was going on there. It was only the company. Mittiek leaned against
one of the adjacent wall.
‘We tried, haven’t we?
But there were too many things going on against us, too many factors we’ve yet to account and before we
knew it.’
‘You don’t have to rub it in.
I know what this means, there’s death now, complete and utter death, without redemption and without a
chance to drift away from it, or survive. How could we be so blind as to ignore the signs?’
‘We were purposefully blinded, that is all, it was something some of us knew yet didn’t have the power,
didn’t have the strength of many. Now.’
‘I do not want to think about it.’
‘Then rot away, because either way, it’s far too late for regret.’
What could come after? Nothing, the bastardly cursed races destroyed everything, and everything in their
path was taken down without shame and with as much virulent madness as they could fill themselves
with. No house stood and no sign of there ever being any kind of civilization. It was just one of the
growing signs of unrest that echoed the most. There was only one chance to cleanse the darkest of the
people in power, one slight chance to kill an insignificant fraction of the world, but that was missed and
deeply rotten, fully fledged as to be forgotten and buried inside the ground, with the rest of them, as well
as everyone else.
This world could not flourish with everything being taken into account.
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For that reason, within the blink of an eye, the core suddenly changed.
A land that was no longer darkened, but gray and flat, and many brought from farther and farther away
had finally come to rest.
Lest forgotten, there came an unfathomable little lesser than a humanoid men, with only the lower side
resembling but a plethora of strange nets spread across the sky, from their hose-gut push-outs that allowed
them unnatural flights.
Gathered around a dancing circle, like a ritualistic thing, they started reeling in one another, swatting the
conglomerate of puffs, and wrought about formations that simply came and popped in the eye, likened to
shapes unseen, appearing at will they started bloat-inflating.
One top of one remained a rider, of whose hardened chitin stood barely rotten. IT was greed and looked
like man, as if he were on a crime scene, embed on top his armor then, the rotten smell, the flies and the
strange thing that were his eyes, two faces overwrought, and seemingly, he was conjoined, but thin
around the throat, uneaten. Bastardly thing, only one arm he bore, and largely beaten.
But a band around his forehead had he bore, flaccidly down, around his eyes, his ears and more than a
few marks were there, going around, entering his temples, then his eyes. Dyed in the symbol-red, a
miasma came around them, as if from innards-trenches that came about.
A little shout in the distance had him fly away from the scene, as bastardly as to look at the dark-ashen
gray gradients, would feel and echo in the distance bringing, a sun-whitened point, the sky. But what
stood before him on the ledge that stopped his bastardly put together flight and, whatever came to mind as
well was this.
‘You’re late and you owe me as much as a thorough explanation, at the very least, I’m to be told what it
is.’
‘I do not know what you’re referring to.’
‘Course you don’t, yet I can still feel the fact that you are hiding.’
Both were frozen, yet in place. They could see each other standing, now moved away.
The Rider Empatuihbag wreathed himself closer in. He was bastardly looking in no, often to be seen,
direction. Only a few formations came here and there, as if they had been around the place and merely
waited for someone’s return. First the long roped flying bags, filled with hot air, coming out of them, one
starting from his gut, entering the side of the old man’s face as well as it could be brought around. And
around the rope there stood but a few hundred more, unrecognizable features, most of them being
completely sickened on each other like rabid filed dogs that couldn’t help themselves, their origin
singularly unknown. As soon as he was allowed to move, he saw himself on green and verdure, talking to
the man whom wore a coral nature cloak and cowl.
Approached upon him with nothing more but a barely fashioned thing a blade, ready to do what needed if
will called it so, to the ribs of the grave.
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There were multiple cores attached to his chest as well, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, although
one could and mighty as well make the difference between them, since so many of them were fakes.
Cracked egg shells that were put together, grown out of him whenever it could be helped. It seemed, ever
now and then, that they were simply, releasing a peculiar tandem of smoking peril, which seemed to
appear in the air. Although he simply spat and upon his spittle, the sudden release of air suddenly
dispersed some of the smoke away which in turn, released the creatures in various stand-upon levels of air
upon which they stood on top of, formed for whatever other reason, than to spoil within each other’s
reach, since they were immediately made as to be incapable of moving from one spot to another, they
were simply frozen in there, waiting for him to get closer.
Yet he turned just as soon as he could, being met by seemingly nothing else but the side-long stretch of a
boot-orca he entered. At the head of the boot-orca, there rested the great two arm-span from shoulder,
openly stretched almost arms pointing in the front yet incomplete limb protrusions, at the base of which
they carried along a ray of reptile like skin, with spear-shaped cartilages that were curved at the tips
forward then downward like taps with opening spear-tip beaks, the figure bearing a strange skeletal larger
than its body cranium of changing skin-shapes that appeared to grow then recede out of nowhere, like
growing then bulb-in the box tulips, almost rabbit-like, while, its four arms were completely stretched and
created the illusion of a standing cartilage gate, or two semicircles, stretching as far as to reach the ground
floor, worming around as the palms had become wriggling cracked discs. At the back of the great creature
stood nothing less of a great pair of eight put together body-skin tag bags that were liquefied-attached to
the rest of the creature, going as far as to create a pseudo tail coming out of the area between the back of
its head and the one that was a few centimeters in its back, many of them being embraced as if they were
hugging as if the bags had opposable limbs, despite them not having any. Seen from above the creature
looked like a peculiar chariot with a great sculpted, attached thing, or a chariot carrying a giant statue’s
head, with meaty ivorylike tusks in the front, large rubbery eely things on both sides, and a gut-like big
growth made out of meaty inflated fat rose petals put together to the main form, or it could be seen like
the hilt of a sword, with a skull bearing two adorning tusks against a blade that was far removed – still
seen from above, that, while ignoring the various shapes and forms that would gather on top of it and
grow just about the place, from every possible side and from every possible corner of the creature. Rather
a mammoth-skulled creature with two cartilage scissors pointing at one another, while the lower half of
the body was but a conglomeration of a few barely put together legs, many of which were entirely
conjoined and incapable of moving from one side to the other, yet served as support, the bodies in the
back but looking like a pile of cocoons put together, dragged across the ground. Seen from below, the
creature looked like a strange, hard to see, hiding inside a shell insect, with strange elongated insect limbs
and in the front, or the bottom, depending on which direction it was lined towards, scarab-blades, with a
bunch of multiple put together larvae like abdomens connected to the opposite end. Or a flying thing,
whereas the skull is the chest, the long shoulder protruding limbs being the legs, the four extended arms
the wings and the further end of the wriggling tags forming the necks and the heads, while a pair of legs
protrude out of its chest-mass.
He was looking at a strangely bizarre large color spittle of blue, rogvaiv, a magenta block of chalkboard
sized rectangle checkerboard if hued to look green instead of various shades of purple, with some of them
bearing smaller in the middle of every square – centered green colored squares that not only oozed but
also colored one another with color projections that floated in the air as to form illusionary pseudo
constellations in which sleeping holographic figures appeared to float, almost nakedly if it weren’t for the
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tattered robes they were wearing while being rotated as if they were actually being slowly roasted in order
to get eaten by the likes of it, there being a slight obtuse intrusion coming out of some of their chests, in
these almost cage-like almost pyramids without the tips. Especially from their chests and the lower sides
of their bodies from which unnaturally deformed dark headed wreathing almost cylindrical bone-carriers,
organ-carriers and machine-molded part of the body like eaters took the main mold of. They seemed
vaguely entranced by the very fact that they were not human by any means, nor even entirely humanoids
as it was largely confirmed by the animals inside the room of which heads removed themselves from their
bodies, revealed not open ends but stumps instead, fur-covered stumps that made it seem like they were
more so, toys rather than live-animals despite their sudden reanimated nature, furthermore adhering to the
strange levitation which started breaking the heads apart until they were completely twisted and turned
into the projections, having been fully if not nigh absorbed. From the looks of it, the transformation was
highly unnatural. Since every single strand of hair appeared to be completely broken apart before being
carried over, split and cut, as to become almost a spear-like shaft of needles that took the opportunity to
launch themselves while attaching to one of the main bodies they took control over, then, what appeared
to be left out of the unwrapped in half beaked parrot, as it suddenly split in two, revealed an intricate
inside system of strange almost almond colored devices with many curled fingers around a ball motion
like inwardly facing cartilage hooks that shoot against their very own ends. In some twist of fate they also
bore molecular level almost epidermis folds that formed pink globular form-like nuclei-things that
appeared to be constantly be forced out of their invisible tape-worm like pockets, pushing out as they
would form large killing almost tendril attachments to the air molecules in which they would breed as to
turn them into small wombs as they gave birth to ugly looking inbred beaked fly-like nails that would
insert themselves into the room’s framework as to reinforce the walls and the structure, since the main
cartilage of the building was very much alive, bearing strange mechanisms of death, which every now and
then grew in side as to home thousands of killed bloated small-tiny African-nigger heads pus-black
people bred inside of, before they died. Niggers are an inferior race, that was an accepted fact.
The framework of the boot-orca being made out of cartilage overly grown and evolved whale bones.
It was strange, the way in which the glow-orange tall humanoid arms forming frame of an asterisk in the
middle with every limb curving in a strange box in the back with little heads facing towards the wall like
thruster appeared to be creating the pus-gas. Little more than a few hardened lumps here and there
forming in the air, then falling down, in the middle of the asterisk frame there being a giant almost horn�like structure hornet-hive, which opened, from which the cut-through face of Horn came out, with all her
limbs but struck about the insides of the asterisk-cast, in her lap there being the wrapped around body of
Lurid whose pestilence could eerily be felt. It started seeping in, but nonetheless.
She opened her mouth and appeared to spit out the insides of a strange tram which had been used to lead
her there, piece by piece releasing it from inside her mouth, after she was done chewing it, a little more
than a red light completely encompassed the room, having made an almost flat like effect before
dissipating, leaving the giant boot lodged inside the orca-boot room. There were veins attached across the
room, many of them baggy looking gray, the blood of Mongol, Opium was pouring in the room as well,
seemingly infesting them slowly, one by one, whichever one dropping down seemed to return to his place
soon after. Little dead mongrel adorning the room now, opening themselves as they would release small
barely born-bred flies, allowing them to ruminate inside the air, wallowing in pain every now and then.
No.184138
Thence he was joined, as soon as Horn stepped forth.
‘Have you been waiting for me now?’
‘For a while, I suppose.’ Said Empatuihbag, whom, in turn was incapable of trusting what or where he
was heading towards, since every single wild depiction was there, standing wrapped against the walls,
they were skullheads inside the walls, dangerously inclining, he came settled with.
‘I believe there’s nothing going on in this place, what do you thing?’
To which Horn brothled as any other nasty cunt would:
‘Fancy yourself leaving this place?’
‘Not just yet, I suppose, not just yet since there’s still something I have to fix, there’s still something
down the way, I think.’
The rider pointed at the floor, there was a point where little more would’ve made no difference than each
tile being misaligned, everything being placed as far away from where they were, before they could even
be placed, a while, he stood. And questioned, glancing.
‘Where would you like to accompany me to? I suppose it’s as good a time as any other to invite you
whenever it might please you, as to bring your farther closer by.’
‘You’ve met him?’
‘Of course I have, Horn, I know whom you are, and what they’ve done to your, as well as that. Leave the
cast you’re put inside of, your maiden of iron, your torture being undefiled; you’re free to leave your
torment for a while now, at my invitation.’
‘What’s the reason for that then?’
‘There’s no need for any reason, other than the fact that I’ve come to understand, there’s something close
to a speck of grit, something seeping in, from just about and every place. The longer you’re staying here,
the worse will it become and you can count on it, by whichever way there is.’
‘It’s something that cannot be quantified, so how would you know what’s happening here, what’s going
on around?’
‘I can see it and I’m not mad.’
‘And I am?’
‘You’re the head of a maiden, carrying in your long-legged arms, but a little wrapped figure that isn’t
breathing, and you most likely think you can bring it back to life.’
The walls of the orca-boot were peculiar now, since their sudden forced servitude that couldn’t have been
expected otherwise. As a matter of fact, it seemed mightily clear that there was enough space to consider
filling as the mongoloid veins were rather out-spread as to cover the few meter pinched gaps that had lain
No.184139
between one another, having been forced to lay in an almost, every few meters down the line choked like
pushed forward position, upon the sudden unwrapping, parchment like of the outer skin that was placed
upon the elongated Mongol-vein, which in turn looked like one of those lizards whom are struck in the
process of extending their throat-skin in an almost pane-like satellite antennae-like manner, forming
pseudo cartilagelike canopies if seen together, these canopies of skin having been wrapped around the
main Mongol-arteries, like some strange Mexican burrito of meaty skin, which moved on top of the walls
as if it were a hovering – a few millimeters off the wall kind of push through, which in turn, began
stretching, connecting, mold-liquefying one another until they almost formed a pseudo-suture between all
of them, as if there was a curtain of skin placed between long deformed beaten from behind with a wrench
kind of pipe, there barely being any kind of straight on the wall kind of touch with the side of the canopy
the tendons were still attached to. Making it seem as if there were huge, wide-angled areas that seemed to
be more flexible than the rigidness of the others, these vein-girthed tendons but stretching all the way up
to an upmost unnatural looking elongated at the top, formed and pointing at the middle of the ceiling kind
of small mount-effigy bearing the look of an almost power-strip filled dark dripping black pooled girth to
which all the tendons appeared to be attached to, pumping in there as if it were a machine.
As such, the bootorca, was, by all means hung in the air by what appeared to be a strange elongated set of
crane-like arms-shape formations that were not only intersected, intertwined and crisscrossed but also
appeared to have formed an utmost chaotic kind of shape that would resemble an almost rapier-like
crossed in a battle kind of sharp angles that, many inflated sustain pillars, as well as many other stick-like
formations of metal that would combine just about everything in this mega-fallen over almost melted
girth of small put together almost cut in perfect cubes floating buildings with their apartments being made
to look as if they were actually living organisms, that would come out of the many open window-holes as
to become, in an utmost incessant manner, solitarily so, balloonlike inflated objects or chewing bubble
gum kind of types, after being chewed a few times as to leave a single downward looking and stretching
flat bile pile that’s connected to the main inflated form, while, instead of hanging flaccidly so, the ground
would be the sky in that case. Or rather, the balloon-like warped forms made out of a green-like almost
eye-texture-like thing with many nerves still attached to it, wrapped – around by nets. Warped as in, these
strange bloated organic balloons being drawn to a non-existing iris that’s placed at the top, where
everything seems to be inwardly drawing as if there was a small sand pit at the very top-end, or a small
coin-like depression if seen from the distance, and with everything taken into account, the many nerves
being attached to, and them being, in this case, completely formed and spread around the empty fillable
hollow – the walls, with them being more than the nerves, as they were also the cartilage, and seemingly
bore plied in shape skin-sheets upon which they were placed on top of. Inside the floating building square
there being, attached to, this seemingly being the reason why many of them are kept behind, as if weight
was attached to them, where the skin-sheet tendons draw down to, a large almost square-thermometer of
heavy weight, dragging everything down with it. Yet these weird balloons by no means are the cause the
flight, or levitation between this peculiar sea of many worn out black bars and strange formations.
At the very edges of both outwardly protruding angles stood two claw-like formations, where the chaotic
mess of ironed-in place metals appeared to be molded with the boot-orca thing in which they stood. They
stood there for the; off-the drop little skin-hardened pins.
It was full, and stranger headed, flipped around, gun-holstered Barroques gathered around the rider,
holding him in place, not a single lance in sight yet all of them wore what seemed to be their guns, around
No.184140
their own temples, aiming as they pointed thoroughly at one another, asking whether or not either one had
the slightest, of the shortest of blanks to load again in their canon-batter.
Neither one spoke, thenceforth they took position, large formations being formed around the great figure
that stood in front of them. Harder, much harder to see as the rider bore a single sheet of steam-mimicry
inside his coat he released by simply tapping on his coat. While this was by no means distracting, he
opened an invitation, that, having already gone to his head, out of the large sheeted mongoloid veins, little
almost eye-patterned flies appeared every now and then. Not even the mist looked as glossy as it
should’ve, at least not likely, that he intended it to be that way, he simply pulled a single thing, it was no
blade but an anchor-shaped little crick. A clicker with a bloated face, spread along and kept in a pucker
thing, it pushed out a tongue that fell straight-dead, flaccidly resting on the floor like a single speck of
lighter-cartilage, one that started growing on the walls as well.
It was a sickening look, as it drew after, with a single lamp standing after – a skeleton frame which
appeared to bear, a single head wreathed out instead, like a pillar that had seeped out, it stopped the
Barroques right in front of him, as the light emerged and filled the head of the ceiling, right around. It
made as little of a difference as it would. Once, from this light’s blue-teal reddish emanation’s drawn to
an end motion, upon having covered a great deal of area around every few meters around the top of the
ceiling, there was no stop to its tender stretch, in how many sides the burning, almost beast like creatures
fell, many of whom would not survive, in the following moments, dying on the spot. They sang and made
to be. Split open and slits for eye-like holding cells, inside where they held disease.
‘What is the meaning of this?’
‘Should there be a meaning to it?’
‘I do not know, I seriously, I suppose there’s been a misunderstanding, hasn’t there?’
Both the Rider and the Horn stared at one another, most peculiar fashion, most peculiar legs. Since it was
more than obvious for some reason, there was but no possible means to have her, not while she was
standing, nor while she was acting that way, awry. A little more than a few seconds, and she would die, or
so he thought. But the creature was still standing, it was as if nothing had come to pass. Not a single dead�light inside its eyes either, it felt as if there was no point to ask.
‘Whence and where, if I might ask, where and what are you trying to achieve, where to go and what to
see, for what reason as well?’
‘I need not seek no other reason but to bring breath into my husband’s lungs. There is no greater purpose
in my life no longer, for lesser men, the likes, the stronger have left me whence time had called it so.’
Sound of violent ravings, the sharpening on iron rust on musky lichen covered stone, it flushed all feeling
and appeared to make one feel of an utmost virulent thing, there being, desperation as the ill-shaped discs,
and swollen as they were, inflated within, once they emerged. Fat-fattened with little red-green puckers
and strange faces appeared to mourn.
And mourn they had, not for themselves but for no one else but the lass.
No.184141
‘Dear lass, dear lass, you must enter thine path and turn around, this is a land of no return, this is a land of
malice that not even a single man might live past forth.’
‘Are you blind in that case or are you forgotten?’ Of proper manners which were not to be counted in, to
Horn’s remark, another inflated disc stepped right in, or at least one of the faces.
‘You’ve been gone through but appeared to be at a loss, you’ve abandoned your earthly form and now
you’re nothing that could be passed.’
‘As any, either.’ Yet another disc, after, this one distinctly set in its appearance, as many mouths formed
and lured it; as such: ‘One, you’ve missed, you’ve abandoned your previous form and now you’re
anything but at peace. You’re nothing and that’s what you’ve become, a butcherment, disease, and for no
reason will your husband mourn.’
‘What is to happen to me in that case if that is, as such as you imply?’
‘Death, of unearthly manner, though not bodily, of mind!’ It spoke, and just as soon, from one of the
bastardly, outside, one of the blasted bridges, the platforms of many births that came just as soon to life, it
appeared to be of no lesser stature, and of no less woe.
Their heads were boated, yet stood tall, a few arsons that were brought, and settled of fashioning their
flame-throwers, having started spraying chemicals on top the tendon growths as well as on everything
else that was there. It was a mirthful sight, at the very least for those standing around it. For, when they
settled, too many cores were made.
From the side and out the world, where the boot was flat and the orca was a thing of its own, floating and
swimming in the ocean-air as if the stars were but little spikes pointing at it, a wild voracious Patricide
had happened after. On top the boot stood he, the father of this world, now the Orca looked after him, for
a great piece of its head was gone, wrapped around the flying bloated mammal, passing, casting only the
most unfathomable, hard to look at stares. Yet Horn was still there, as was the Rider, whom had greeted
her for a very while.
A tall figure was he, the Rider, the horse conjoined to him, the patterns wilder, brisk and brushes, bristles
embed in his being, the wild abstractions and the Yellow head, wider, was the call to action.
‘I can give you a chance to leave.’ He told her, while at the same time keeping distance, for they were in
such a place, where the chaotic growth of many metal ledges would elate even the worst of beings, most
of them having floated in an inhumane niggardly manner, niggerish as in against life, unfathomably
inferior metallic matter being put aside, then around.
‘And if you seek to bring him back, I may.’
Yet he could or refused to speak on her form, out of fear, not to hear or to think of such a thing there was,
a mild apprehension that would claim his mind if he said the wrong time, again, he drew closer.
It was a spark of largely deformed yellow flowers that stood in the sky, there was no space around, but a
strange almost stage-like pain that formed everything and every single glowing wild stalactite and
stalagmite that pointed towards the platform they were drawn to. Inside these strange insidiously formed
No.184142
coffin-like structures, one could hear, which disproved the relatively, barely formed in the subconscious
mind of Horn, the noise made by the tapping fingers whom had belonged to the trapped fingers inside of
these closely encased coffins.
There was no deal, precisely, but a call of stop to action, since there were things that could most likely
backfire against anything and everything that even crossed her mind, it was a puff of head that appeared
to be broken every now and then, time ticked, they were but bulbs and flowers. Many of them painted
yellowy as roses-white after a shower of paint from above.
‘I am giving you but a chance to continue thine journey, back there, and you may go your own way
whenever pleasing.’
‘Why should I take your word for it, that he may be brought back to life as soon as I comply?’
‘Are you not a woman then? Are you not to obey?’
‘I was butchered.’
‘Yet you’re still one in essence and in play. You shall still listen, be submissive and do as I say.’
‘What if I am betrayed?’
‘Then you are to live the rest of your days that way, wonderingly so.’
‘So be it, then, it’s what I choose. My choice shall not be forgotten by no means and know that I shall. I
shall seek retaliation.’
‘Yet ill-searched, for I may not be harmed, I whom am above all life, I whom live in such realm;’ To that
he pointed, larger oils and wider stretches, all appeared after, that, to come and brought to snare, a sight of
paintings everywhere.
It was in this realm he lived, uncanny, the nasty rosary, the growths of plants, the floral embroidery and
everything that came to his mind, all and all, brought to him, for life and stall had taken a peak. His eyes
were verdure, but not in the body, yet in the sun, the many things but looking and staring at the little dark
spidery thing that was attached to her half open mouth.
‘I will obey in that case.’
There was no way down, but it seemed likely, that it would not matter. A hole formed out of nowhere,
where she stood, like a small entry, from where a small rickle of barely formed short-hands put her in a
barrel-cage, dragging her away as soon as her mouth was shot.
Neither of them could make out what was going on by any chance or means.
A pair of little barely shaped Tenors with their bellies fat, of whom, but looked like nastily caught, there
came an open mouth from one’s belly. It took a while for either one to reel back in and out, on the side of
the boot, as the land started pushing out of its hiding. A head-shaven to the brow and two listening long�heads appeared from around their spikes, little more than bloated stalagmites standing-open, elevator-like
reeling in back and forth.
No.184143
‘Why, you, of all, are yeast infected, you were, for the longest time, and thine content.’
‘There are echoes left on far, thine land, there’s nothing to see not to be drawn to when they call upon a
bird-cage pair to sing and hear, a leper’s song.’
Part of the land started, moving from one part to another as if both were part of a partially decayed
landslide never to be taken out of place. She had been there within reason, accompanied by them both,
incapable of making out the reason for their presence, or why she still stared at a wrapped around corpse,
she wailed, but then again.
‘Would you happen to know of any safe path? To look in any other way when needed, or at the very least
tell of the time?’
There can be no other man of trenches coming forth. Within reason they started, just as soon to ask one
another questions among the road, seeing how it had become way, beyond it, least of all, too bastardly to
wait before, construction done, the workers would be risen again. Many of them or either one, too
drenched around their heads, no longer. Not to stand in line, many and lesser of them, were strung along
and least of all, and such disaster as would follow.
It felt as if the weather would worsen out, especially since the dead-birds whom had showered in steam
made clouds were yet to make a case of it, since many were but pebbles in the most unnatural of weird
throngs. In skies of alabaster songs, whereas neither nor a single one would know of the alternative, that it
to show. Horn had but strung a few, many of them hanging on her suture segments, many of the birds but
new to this kind of pain. Seemingly skull-exposed, neither had felt a fraction of this strange a pain, which
was by all means insufferable as to wail in it, and face for long, there was no certain way to avoid it
either, for all the time in the world seemed to stop in front of her before she could even try a thing.
‘Don’t swing them off, or else, something might happen.’
‘Think it’s going to last until next Eve?’
‘Their deaths? Bothersome as it is.’ The Long head said, right before being joined by a fourth member of
their most salacious cult, and then. They seemed to have formed a great mound, at the very least, eighteen
of them were present but neither of them spoke too loudly, not that it would matter for either one. Since
there was no precisely strong, or sudden movement, they walked through dark rains formed out of the
most unnatural things, bodies of benign. Maliciously forming themselves out of thin air, then prodding,
many elongations, many that were harming themselves along the way, although neither of them touched
the ground. It was peculiar, how and for how long, it took for them to understand.
They were all watched by greater forced, many of whom but served the Cores, neither one. And lesser
things, the eggs cracking, the shells’ echo but slamming against each wall and in that room there was
naught greater than the Mongol and the ones that served him before his time was come. For he’s been
brooding there, a leprous frog never to be, too aloof in fleshy feeling, but never understanding, as the few
of them whom were present around Horn, and would’ve made, within reason, something of their home
had asked.
‘When was the last time you’ve spoken to him? To your husband, to your lover, when?’
No.184144
‘A long time ago from what I remember, and I’ve yet to find someone akin to him, someone who might
help me, whether or not, in insolence or whether there might be so called back upon a time of happiness
and lamentation before a time when I was brought to walk.’
‘Where are you heading to in that case?’
‘It’s well that I’m content with the fact, that I may not hide by any means that the Rider in his home,
which brought me no less into the boot, has instead, betrayed me before I could even get a chance to
retort. I see myself as far away, I see my vision let convey only of the darkest futures there might be, as
there’s no possible reality where I may see my husband walk again.
That I may see him animated, and least of all, to suffer of no pain as I would’ve had it.’
They feared the dreams, the ones that happened to be there, around them, in the surroundings, or the wild
things that popped every now and then in their heads, like little specks of bullets, that came from her as
well. It was immaterial, to say the least, even trying to make something up on the road.
Since they could all see it. Materializing in front of their eyes, It was like some kind of malign
evolutionary scale made out of put together past species that held a screen, that thing stared spreading on
the walls and on just about everything that lay around it. There was no stop and definitely no beginning
nor would there be any kind of hope to try at it, since by the looks of it, the screen bore, in its flat square
appearance, bare-teeth around its frame and edges, going around like a band actioned chainsaw that
appeared to completely cut through the simian fingers the slaves seemed to bear, right before they
reformed themselves into a point and another.
It was a dreadful thing Horn could not stray away from, this road seemed like a self fulfilling prophecy,
by all means, a trap and a cage within itself, trying to make her look away as these long-legged backwards
walking creatures began heaving the screen, tilting it ever so slightly at to be slightly pushed forward at
the top, backward at the bottom, forming a perfect almost titillating to look at straight plane. With wild
images appearing to be somewhat struck in a still – straight in relation to the curvature of the screen as if,
if the screen had been straight, the image would’ve been tilted in the opposite direction of the screen if it
was in its tiled position. Like a pendulum of images that appeared to be reactionary to the way they’re
pointed, in the strangest manner possible, they seemed to go back and forth in these strange rotations.
Baleful creatures dances in the strangest manner, all covered with strange glowing numbers that appeared
to contort and make all the shapes or give life to the strangest of things, walls that were curved at the top
and formed climbing regions that were but peculiarly grown at the top like strange boil-filled unnatural
demonical figures with large elongated heads and shoulders, these shoulders bearing large opening from
which snake-like push-through coils but opened only to reveal sun-discs structures with humanoid head�wrought in pincer shapes flowers with spikes around the edges of their bases that bore strange openings
with large pin-like string formations that appeared to come out as partially transparent almost invisible
flies with glowing flare like stickers attached to their ever growing insides that appeared, if a man saw
them, as bubbly optical illusions after staring at the sun too long, yet more curved as if they were sickle
cells in comparison to normal blood cells. Despite, what appeared to be the tilted screen’s actual
representation, that being, the fact that this was but a strange portal leading to another, different world, the
flatness of the ground was but a simile of the world, which was but almost tiled with strange man-like
casts that, the further, as they were projected on the ground, they approached the wall on the bottom,
No.184154
>>184046i can goon to this
No.184289
>>184288HOLY FREAKING CRAP
No.184461
>>184288holy freaking crap put it in a sticky
No.184552
>>184543Draw her getting raped by a bbc whilst Sean (pathetic ytboi cuck) watches in pain knowing he can't do anything
No.184748
>>184733tama is white though
No.184756
>>184733This is supposed to be mameson cosplaying tama
No.184757
>>184756 was a reply to
>>184748 No.184763
Now let her eat me while looking like this.
>>178437 No.184867
>>184849Now draw her drinking sproke
No.184877
Draw Tama from behind with gyatt
No.185069
bump
No.185665
Uptama
No.185668
Draw tama gyatt
No.186078
>>185849
ai is just antihuman
No.186090
>>185849
why does this have to exist
No.186091
>>183846Not so proud of this one
No.186096
>>186078seethe your "talent" and creativity mean fucking nothing
No.186564
uptama
No.186890
I WILL KILL TAMA
No.187031
rapе
No.187058
What does the back of her head look like
No.187101
>>187088i <3 attentionwhoring
No.187138
obsessed thread
No.187416
>>187415fresh fanart (shitty fanart albeit, i can't draw that well with a touch pad)
not so dead methinks
No.187566
>>187415I care about Tama.
No.187820
>>187773>>187785>tranny from sharty's /qa/ in the wildeh… ohaiyou gosaimasu..!
No.187864
>>187820what the hell does that mean
No.187865
Fuck niggers
No.187872
>>187135someone go pay some guy 5 dollars to make this now
No.187881
>>187871wait i fw this tho
brown skinned characters with colorful hair
No.188181
>>188070>>188071blud who is this
No.188265
>>178497>1 8 >4 8 TurkARYAN won
No.188950
inedible coal above me
No.188951
earthshake causing brap above me
No.188953
>>188949>No tail>No 4 cat ears>Wrong text color>Paint bucketedNiggercoal
No.189045
She's unironically cute but her fans are goooners….
No.189056
>>189045meds, i love tama but ive never gooned to her before. stop assuming all women are goonslop, incel
No.189057
>>188964>men crossfressing as womenSHITSKIIIIN
>women crossdressing as menARYANNNNN
No.189626
>>189045>woman = goonslopbleed out and DIE
No.189701
>>189700whoops i meant >>>/soy/328849
No.189708
built for bbc
No.190804
>>190802this one is so hot oh my god
No.190999
built for bwc AND bbc
No.191046
Is it just me or some of the posts here have dissapeared?
No.191107
Test
No.191144
test
No.191230
bumo
No.191375
>>191358would be a gem if the skirt went up just a littttllleee more
No.191433
>>191432trust me i regret making it
No.191434
>>191433don't regret it it's gemmy
