From the depths of Hades


Upon arriving home, John immediately noticed the bathroom light
was on. There didn't appear to be anyone up there, and he began to
act strange. For some reason, I could not ascertain he began to worry about the light being on in that room. "It's never on" he said, "and look
at what time it is!" He then sat at the top of the stoop and began to contemplate this strange situation. It was at this point that I began to examine the driveway. I gazed at the mysterious shape with eyes peering and found that a form of serpent writing had been scrawled inside it. Indelible evidence that evil most certainly does exist in our plain of time, and now the magic transcript was glowing with reason. I felt as though
I were an archaeologist who had just uncovered a missing artifact from
the very bowels of Hell itself! If it were let's say a lost document from a timeless ledger, or an actual inscription from the land below, then by the depths of Hades, why would God allow me to bear witness unto it? As I looked deeply into an enigma, the murky veil was removed and the scroll came to life. Like a blind man able to see for the first time, the vision was totally unobscured, and I was beside myself. Within the lucid fabric of their own genes, they all bore a distinctive trait that controlled them and kept them together as one, though they were many. Letters of havoc, written in tide. *Under pressure, I guess* The encrypted doctrine was becoming sharper in image and I could feel my heart shifting into new gears! No earthly mortal would be able to crack the code on this baby,
I thought as my mind ran in circles above me!

*News just in* "A teenager on Staten Island has stumbled upon what appears to be one of Lucifer's many diabolical manuscripts. Can you tell us something about the baneful image which appeared to you just hours before dawn on this quiet street?" Certainly Jim. Me and my friend had
just returned from an outing, when I looked down at the ground to find this unusual formation. Honestly, I wasn't sure what to make of it. As it continued to grow, I began to study the nature of its indecisiveness and
in a very odd kind of way I felt like a clairvoyant, whose power had just
been summoned. "Did you observe it in its earliest stage?" Yes I did Jim.
I believe it first started in the form of a helix or a three dimensional curve, and from there it progressed into what can only be described as a menagerie of anatomical heresy. "There you have it ladies and gentlemen. The men standing behind me are from the pentagon, and it seems they've flown a chopper in to pull it out. They're going to examine it, to make sure it's not a hoax before flying it back to the compound in Washington.
From there it will be moved to an undisclosed location.
Now, back to you Roger."

                                          Pg 239
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

But was there a deeper meaning in Miranda's crystal ball?
Could the chemical formula within the elixir of life
prove to be as acrid as an epitaph of mourning?
Or, was the Whip-poor-will weeping,
merely singing a tune for thee?

This I pondered near a red maple.

As I gathered and collected thoughts, to be sorted out at a later date,
I made a promise to the wind that I would figure this one out. Not
knowing that the answer to all things was merely the beginning of
more problems. Like Sherlock Holmes, I stood there, so intent on knowing, but what was I trying to know? This I thought cunningly,
and it made the whole world seem like one big game of detective!"

I wish I had the pipe right now I thought. That Peterson briar
was a smoker's dream. With a pouch full of Middleton's cherry
and a matchbook or two, I'd be in heaven! Getting down on
both knees, I could see what was starting to happen here.

So subtle and crafty is the shark that lies in wait;
the martyr in the midst of life; the feral bloody tooth.

As I watched the insidious strands parlay in the white mirror,
I wondered if they were nothing more than the devils own greed.
With two fingers, I gently caressed the top of the hardened mortar pad,
held in place by years of intense struggle. Who could have thought that
on this winsome night, I would become literally obsessed with the underworld and things that move about in dark places?

How long before they overflowed into the next pad, spreading their pestilence within realms of containment while formulating an inimitable strategy for escape. Should the virile progeny emerge to besmirch the evening air, let us then pray they may eschew the rays of sunlight!
Heaven help us, should they come crawling out of my altered reality
to find their way up a pant cuff or a skirt. Then they may indeed find
the narrow opening of the tubular urethra, and decide to spawn within
the soft lining of man's awaiting bladder, like the vampire fish of the Amazon river! Society as we currently know would then be doomed
to extinction, forcing us all to live life from out of the horrifying
pages of a crazed H.P. Lovecraft novel!!!

Hereunto we have arisen triumphantly;
tomorrow, we trade our salubrious smiles for impassioned tears.

Effortlessly and without care they instinctively swarm the enclosure.
Like a million boa constrictors in an enormous vat of quicksand
they scatter, as would leeches in a stagnant swamp, if human
bait had suddenly been lowered! Slow moving with a hint of
apprehension, but it was growing! *They were growing*
Such as the worm pulled apart would grow anew, similar
in this nature was the intrepid creature who slithered like
a virus in its quadrel cage of stone. Procuring their sanctions
were they of their own volition, to insure their defenses
would not be breached. These herpetoid dwellers,
if given the chance could paralyze the world
of science and bring down with it
a host of quantum laws.

                                          Pg 240
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In a vain attempt to keep righteous order in their own world,
they thrust forward and pull back. Calculating equations
without error and tenuously excreting themselves
to form their own supreme dynasty.

*There is no need to fight over territorial demesne*

Still, they manage to incorporate a fluent but graceful air about
themselves. It is one of the things that make them truly unique.
Without further analysis, the scornful image reflected a magnitude
of contempt by continuing to disseminate throughout the entire
sector. Like a hoard of mad dictators, they weaseled their way in
and took over that block, as Hitler would have taken over America
and destroyed us. With no one to stop them, it was theirs for the
taking. As my awkward shadow touched the perimeter of their
communal nest, they went into a mad frenzy! Eventually, they
would go on to become the earth's bile, but not before
I got a chance to take some final notes.

Every man is equal to himself in power. Not to abuse his gift,
but to uplift even the penurious man in rags. The same way no man
wishes to be enslaved by the ignorance of others, no man desires to
live in poverty. All men should wish to fight for what they believe in, providing it earns them respect. It is a sad truth, but you will find
the color of a man's skin becomes irrelevant, only in the trifles of war.

Thousands upon thousands of venomous designs fashioned in concrete would create a calligraphic maze. Jet black and semi
curly with a moray eel edge. Like a lock of Medusa's hair, they
were everywhere. Spawning and reproducing within the confines of their own elaborate scheme, was their domain in my elusive mind. Twirling down ev'r so brilliantly, they contracted and darted, like
a chain of myosin coming free from itself to spin madly! Filthy yet beautiful was the stunning inlay of this hoary tablet that seemed
to support a brimming continent of weight!

Elapid patterns conceived in whimsy by the devil's own hand were illustrious portraits of the centuries lost in decay. Like ashes to ashes
or dust to dust, there was no remorse. Time is the enemy of man but
who is the enemy of time? Who should be afraid of the murderer of 1846? Stand tall for the enemy is dead! And how can the man standing accused in 1412 repent? If he is going to repent, then let him do so quickly, for the next second is now! What I saw from the design is that there is no time. There is nothing left. I, may very well lift up my glass and toast to your health, while you, may very well see my great grandchildren walking
with canes. Everything that will come to be has done so,
for we are merely remnants of a bygone day.

                                          Pg 241
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------