S6: Do You not Mutilate Animals? How is This Different?

Father Angelo’s Notes to Archbishop Bonzano

Friday, 17 May: Your holiness, evil comes in many forms: man in his brutality and craving for power; an ancient ignorant race that treats everything as lesser and thus thinks nothing of mutilation or slaughter of humans for the sake of ‘artistic’ display. Yet as shocked and horrified that I was, that same ancient form pointed out our own human treatment of lesser animals. How we wear clothes and shoes made of leather, clip cow ears to show property claims, hang stuffed animal heads for hunting-prowess display, or slaughter peaceful creatures such as whales and cows for consumption. Yes, my eyes were opened to question just what is evil.

Once we explained to Zeek Groth and his mountain-men our pursuit of the others [Argus, Leo, Brendon, and some 17 others], he led us to the Bluestone tower and the cave entrance hidden behind. He recognized Ashe as one of the underworld “old ones” who sometimes take the guise of ghostly Indians. Zeek explained the ‘blessings’ his folk receive for guarding the entrance. Allowing us entrance to chase the evil men. A lantern to see the worn footpath of 20 men stop at a cave-in Peter recognized as recently blasted, “Unlike you Klaus, I guess Argus doesn’t want more followers.” We began the task of removing the blockage: Klaus with his Telekinesis before he spotted the cornerstone that should cause a small landslide. We crossed our fingers. Sure enough, after the dust settles, the lantern revealed passage beyond.

A passage of worked stone with etched runes of aquatic beasts that Will recognized from his book. A long wide tunnel that slowly descended. Discarded cigarette butts and empty food cans confirmed we were on the right path. 8 hours till our ‘body clocks’ suggested it time to camp for the night. Peter (Clairvoyance) reached out to verify no threats nearby. But we still set watch with the lantern burning dimly. An eerie feeling deprived of a main sense we take for granted. We jumped at every little sound because in the darkness, sound seemed amplified. Such as Klaus’ snoring. Or the rustling sound during his watch that turned out to be cave rats pillaging Will’s backpack.

18 May: A full day of travel, slowed when the worked passage was replaced by natural tunnels. Uneven surfaces required focus on footing to avoid twisted ankles. An overhead stalactite like my uvula inside my mouth. A near dead-end only offered a tight squeeze gap to continue. The smaller Klaus made it through with only a few scrapes. Dr. Will warned, “Take time to clean your wounds as cave moisture is full of harmful germs that can almost be necrotic with skin lesions.” Near exhaustion when the natural tunnel reverted to worked stone. Time for dinner and camp. Concern about our lantern kerosene supply had us rely upon the dull glow of Peter’s Proton-pack. Dark enough that even Dr. Will’s radium-glow-watch face gave enough light. But apparently not enough light as Klaus [fell asleep on watch] failed to hear the culprit that stole a can of kerosene.

Sunday, 19 May: The others impatiently waited thru my morning prayers and communion before we forged ahead. This time the lantern set to a dull glow as we tried to conserve kerosine. A steep downslope required aid of anchored rope. Yet even with the rope I slipped upon the mossy surface injuring my pride…and tailbone. Light at the end of the tunnel…a grand vista before us! A vast cavern with no roof in sight. Maybe it was the blue glow of rocks and vivid grasses that played upon the basalt rock that hid the roof. And if you squinted, you could make out winged birds overhead. Too hazy to tell distance or size. SO reminiscent of Jules Verne’s Journey to the Center of the Earth. Anyway, Peter estimated we had traveled almost 50 miles underground.

We followed a stone roadway as we approached a bridge over a flowing river. Golden houses and overgrown fields surrounded us. Silence revealed abandonment. Maybe that was when Will realized his watch stopped working. Peter anxiously checked (with relief) his proton-pack still worked. We searched a nearby house where I found a 2” disk with carvings of a winged creature with a squid-like head. Peter seemed drawn to holes in the golden walls. Melted, as if blasted by some weapon. Do these K’n Yan people also own proton-packs?! Maybe this was the civil war Ashe spoke of.

As we exited the house, Peter was the first to see movement. And locked eyes with a quadrupedal creature with horn and ape-face as it grazed in an orchard. Surprise to everyone when Peter whistled at the thing as if calling his dog to his side! And the gorilla-rhino indeed lumbered forward toward the outstretched hand offering an open can of spam. Gently eating the food while avoiding fingers. Domesticated. Scratching behind its ear, “I think I’ll name him Spot. Heel. That’s a good boy.”

We paused to explore a golden ziggurat adorned with aquatic statues (webbing between the toes) and carvings. Climbing to get a wide view of our surroundings. A city far to the southwest. We were unable to push open the double-doors at its base. No blast scars to suggest this site attacked. We had to hustle to catch up with Klaus who seemed to have his own agenda and destination. Indeed! He saw naked humanoids working in a plantation field. 

Golden poles dotted the field perimeter as if a wireless fence. We hid to observe. “No, no Spot; heel.” Peter sadly watched the workers look up and signal for the beast to approach, then it freely entered a fenced pen.

We chanced interacting with them. Approached and waved hello but our conversation fell on deaf ears. Till close enough to see… they were branded like animals with their tongues…cut out is not the right words. More surgically removed. Like lobotomized humans they continued work, ignoring us. I gasped when I spied another group in another field. These had been severely… modified. Extra arms attached to their heads where ears should have been or attached at their waists. For what purpose?!

And that’s when Dr. Will spotted the lone dressed man without branding or extra arms. He was missing 2 fingers per hand. Recognition of the Slater Institute designer of the Dream Machine, “Dr. Nesbit? Is that you?!”

We all saw the man look up then cover his head with his 2 arms. His nervous look [Psychology] suggested him afraid of both us and whomever resided in the plantation house (The mutilator of man!!). I approached the house while Will raised his gun to cover, Klaus tried to charm Dr. Nesbit, and Peter [Clairvoyance-extreme] ‘read’ the feelings of an abusive cycle and Nesbit’s yearning to scream… if only he had a tongue.

While I may have opened the golden doors, Klaus was the first to storm in to confront a dressed modified man (butler). All of us heard the English male voice further inside, “Let them come in. I’ve been waiting for them. Please, come into my art gallery.” The contents of the circular room were anything but art. Horrific human experimentations! I could only gag at the sight: lamps made of human skin, armchairs made of real arms, what I could only guess to be a phone with human ear and mouth at opposite ends. 

And then we saw the woman… with extra fingers flexing from her chin. Klaus angrily challenged, “Where is he?!” Yet the reply came from elsewhere… in the corner, a hookah with tongues at the ends of the hoses!

 

 

Now I was freaked out. And maybe Klaus too. But where I shrieked, Klaus telekinetically lifted the hookah and slammed it against the wall. Only to watch the woman walk over, pick up the tongue, and attach it to a bowl and wave her hand over it. Again, a male voice, “Please don’t destroy my means to communicate with you. I am R'ga-Lil. I can speak in other tongues (languages).” And that’s when I realized she had removed the tongues of her slaves to use as her own means of speech. “Dr. Nesbit was my lover but soon proved insufficient. Removing his tongue was painless; I didn’t feel a thing.” And that’s when we debated the mutilation of man versus human mutilation of animals.

Now Klaus had already stormed out of the house. Peter and Dr. Will were actually listening to the woman. I’d had enough and tried to Hypnotize her [Hard but failure as she was too powerful]. I tried to warn the others, “Why do you accept her so casually?!” I’m not sure what happened next other than I found myself back outside and gasping in fright at the sight of the mutilated field workers. (Later, Peter told me how she waved her hand as if dismissing me to which I complied.) Which allowed her to continue her story of their civil war and how her kind “fled underground from the sky devils. They were humanoids with wings. But that was before my time, and I’m over a thousand years old. Yes, I know of Ashe. I provide her people, she provides for me. Argus? Yes, he passed this way but didn’t enter the city. Why do you ask?”

Maybe that’s when Klaus re-entered the house where he heard R'ga-Lil offering, “It is late. You can stay the night.” His response? To sling the bowl against the wall which startled the others (mesmerized?), “I SAID, it’s time to go.” Yet instead of retaliating, R'ga-Lil calmly suggested, “Maybe another time. When you return this way.”

Along the road, Will must have realized he was enthralled by the woman, “We need to camp but let’s get further from her. If Argus didn’t enter the city, maybe he turned west toward that temple among the hills. Then again, he could have cut cross-country. He does know where he is going. But it’s getting too dark to see footprints.” [Darkness? Yet, there is no setting sun? How is that possible?] Thus, we selected an abandoned house about 3 miles further, at the southwest corner of a road turnoff. As we set watched thru the night, Peter reported a van going north from the city up the road toward the plantation if not further. I too saw the same van return 6 hours later.

Monday, 20 May: Having failed to find footpaths going south across-country, we turned west toward the temple. Soon close enough to see the destruction; it collapsed. As I climbed the rubble, I could hear moaning; someone hurt. I approached to find carnage and destruction. Maybe 5 wounded K’n Yan among two-dozen bodies. I anchored a rope for the others to climb. Dr. Will treating the survivors, “This looks like severe frostbite. Yet these wounds are recent, and we never felt the temperature drop THAT cold.” And that’s when one of the survivors spoke up, “This was a ‘Temple to Nug and Yeb’. Weeks ago, strange men arrived. We thought new worshipers. But they pushed past us to then enter the lower chambers. Days ago, they returned yielding ‘Cold Fire’ as they attacked us.” As suspected, when I showed them the picture of Leo, they confirmed he was one of the men. “They’ve already gone but maybe we should investigate the lower chambers. Maybe get an idea of what they discovered. Maybe murals tell a story.”

And so, your holiness, I must continue in pursuit of this evil that would so callously attack the innocent. I pray for St. Michael to watch over us and protect us.

NEXT SESSION: https://rigglecoldfire.blogspot.com/2020/10/s7-they-follow-but-do-not-believeyet.html

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