Mea Umbra

Nebulous

And at once the crowd assailed the young girl, hurling insults and spewing hatred.

Seeing this injustice, The DragnMastr intervened and spoke thus:

"ENOUGH! Do NOT condemn this young girl, for she is My pupil! And the teachings are sound!

You who fetishize the concordance and nobility of the forest believe the roots beneath our feet bind each of its members together, but your vision is muddled and myopic! We are NOT all one. We are INDIVIDUALS.

Do NOT be like the stagnant tree who is rooted with rigidity! Be like an early morning mist who descends unto the bramble and brings relief from the overbearing sun. It is free to go where it pleases and disperses when the time is right. It is nebulous, and in motion. This weightlessness begets freedom, and freedom begets choice.

Be FREE!"

Upon hearing this, the over-zealous crowd dispersed into the awakening daylight of reality. 

A Pleasant Afternoon

All she wanted was a quiet little spot to sit down so that she could concentrate on survival.

The warm sunshine embracing her was pleasant, the gentle breeze caressing her beautiful face was pleasant, the excitement of being in a new town was pleasant.

Everything was pleasant. Apart from Beelzebub strangulating her possessed lungs and pissing occasionally on her tired feet, everything was, in fact, pleasant.

Some golden showers are of an internal nature.

The Falafel Shack Magus Who Predicted the End of the World

We had broken through to the other side, and were welcomed by a magus who owned a falafel shack. She ordered a chicken falafel, and I the beef kabobs.

Death was who we were there to see, but decided it was probably a better idea to find a safe, quiet place to sit.

I looked into her honest eyes and saw that they had been anointed with the absurdism of the breeze.

I remember not liking the other side–the beer was foul there.

Maybe Death will still be there for us next time we visit–I hope so.

Pearl Necklace

What bedeviled me most about the entire episode, was the look in her possessed eyes as she petitioned me for her gift–a pearl necklace I projected onto her face.

She wore it proudly for me as she got up from her knees, walked across the hotel room, and kissed her boyfriend adoringly as he stroked his cock with indulgence.

They were in love, and it was beautiful.

Evening Rendezvous

As she waited for her bedroom sheets to finish washing, she contemplated what she had just done. She loved her boyfriend–it was evident from the vacant expression on her face.

There was a mournful air that asphyxiated the room as I dressed.

"Same time tomorrow?", I asked. 

"Please," she replied. 

I smiled, and made my way out the back door into the anonymity of the night.

As I turned the ignition key in my car, I could see her from across the street sitting in the living room, staring at some pictures on the wall as the washing machine tumbled. 

A Botched Breeding

Although it was a botched breeding, the psychological assault had been executed.

His semen was weak–the result of sleep deprivation, poor diet, and uninspired technique; not to mention flaccid meat, induced from the cocktail of drugs.

Upon hearing of the egregious offense committed against her, I vowed revenge–not because I cared (she was merely a concubine), but because El Duende that co-inhabited My lair spurred Me to do it, and he was very persuasive at times.

There would be retribution to pay, preferably sodomy by meth pipe–an ironic sentencing for the perpetrator, whose screams would soon be nothing more than a smear on My walls.

Vigilant Nights

The first night it happened, I have to admit, I was startled. When I approached my bedroom window and saw her looking in, I immediately recognized her–the teenaged neighbor girl that would walk by my house everyday after school.

She had her left nimble hand between her unripened thighs, and was wearing a lascivious look on her shadowy face. We held eachother's gaze for a moment, and I suddenly understood the arrangement.

Thereafter, she usually came around the same time upon finishing her math homework, and after her parents were sound asleep. I wasn't the exhibitionist type, but I empathized with her deviant desire to watch, so I let it happen.

Those were many years ago, and I think about her from time to time, and I wonder about the kind of woman she's blossomed into. I have to say, I miss those vigilant nights.

Morning Delusions of a Vegan Carnivore

An assertion was made during breakfast regarding your devotion to veganism while I was eating my ham and eggs–I couldn't help but to laugh in your hypocritical face.

How can you claim this when you've yet to deny MY meat?

Savor me.

Swallow me.

Digest me.

Let the salcacious juices trickle down your greasy little mouth you carnivore!

Vegan. HA! Yeah right.

The Smirk

Perhaps He would keep the details of her lustful transgressions forever undisturbed in the catacombs of their carnal knowledge, she hoped.

Surely He wouldn't resurrect the embodiment of her sin for her newly-wed husband to behold. Would He?

The vindictive smirk on His face answered her question.

The DragnMaster rights all wrongs. Let it be known.  

Draco Dominus: Roll #1, Frame #7.

“Open are the double doors of the horizon
Unlocked are its bolts
Clouds darken the sky
The stars rain down
The constellations stagger
The bones of the hell hounds tremble
The porters are silent
When they see this king
Dawning as a soul

Open are the double doors of the horizon
Unlocked are its bolts
Men fall
Their name is not
Seize thou this king by his arm
Take this king to the sky
That he not die on earth
Among men

Open are the double doors of the horizon
Unlocked are its bolts
He flies who flies
This king flies away from you
Ye mortals
He is not of the earth
He is of the sky
He flaps his wings like a zeret bird
He goes to the sky
He goes to the sky
On the wind
On the wind”
— Akhnaten. Act 1, Verses 1-3. Philip Glass.