The Loyal Lieutenants Act Zero Scene Six

 

Act Zero

Scene Six

 

Ptolemy met with his lieutenants: Mr. Mardian, the commander of his boys; Tariq Jabel, the leader of the assassins, which includes the ladies who do all the killings; and Alexas, the matron of the chambermaids. They met on the barge sailing on the Nile.

“What happened at the café?” The pharaoh was upset at the failed attempt on Mark Antony.

“It was all planned. The driver was to take him there, and the ladies would be at the table. Somehow, he saw the act and took down the ladies.” Tariq reported. “The driver died too.”

“And we failed the task. How am I to tell the Consulate member that we fumbled there?” The pharaoh looked at Tariq.

“They are one of the best pairs. They had...”

“Failed. All their previous achievements are no good when they failed one time.” The Prophet reminded Tariq. “Mr. Mardian did better. He got the agent killed, and the other……….. what his name is…… Moses. That is one Moses who will not part the sea there and escape Egypt.”

“Boys, we are to please Rome, and the Romans ruled Rome, so we will do them good tasks. They will consolidate our ranks here, and when we are powerful like Rome, we will take on them in return. Till then, we act as the humble friendly Egypt.”

“Today, Julius Caesar is coming to Egypt. He will be here with us for a month, but I intend to have him stay longer. We will treat him as a... Pharoah deserved to be.”

“Pharoah, I got news that Enobarbus’s wife was killed along with our boy, Alik Basu.” Mr. Mardian reported.

“Alik Basu? He is the so-named stud but has always claimed to be a surgeon. You must be happy he was sent there, or he will be fucking the harem here.” Pharoah smiled. “I never liked him. He wants to taunt us with his manhood.”

“He got shot there, Pharoah.” Mr. Mardian smiled. “Above his balls.”

Mr. Mardian is an eunuch who lost his testicles when he was castrated by the pirates. He, however, retained his prick, which he made use of. He wondered what they called a man without a prick—fucked up perhaps.

“Does Enobarbus know of his task?” Pharoah asked.

“I am unsure, but he could be shot because he was having an affair with the wife.”

“Damn him to hell. He was to get a line on Enobarbus and not fuck the wife.” The pharaoh was upset. “Cicero called me then. He was upset, too. We were to get news on how to blackmail Enobarbus.”

“Moses dead, Isaac dead, and now even Alik, who have we left at Rome?” The pharaoh asked.

“We have one more.” Mr. Mardian replied.

“Keep that one covered. We will use that one soon.” The Pharoah smiled. “Now onto Caesar.”

It was then that his sister, Cleop, walked in. She was younger than the Pharoah and obviously shared the same qualities as her whore mother, who seduced Ptolemy II, who was twice her age. The daughter of the whore was a beauty, with nicely shaped curves and a bubbly, rounded chest, but it was her nose that stood out well. Like a set of beautiful pout lips, Cleop's unique beauty was her well-sculpted nose, which was straighter with a smaller, slightly upturned tip and a small chin.

“Marius,” Cleop addressed her half-brother with his name in a shrill tone; that was her wrathful tone when upset. “Who …...”

“Dismiss all of you.” The Pharoah looked at the lieutenants and then faced his fierce and feisty half-sister.

“I was having a discussion with...” Ptolemy III looked towards Cleop.

“I want to know who this Caesar is and why I was... " Cleop, when upset, held an aura of mysticism about her beauty.

“Cleop, I was to tell you, but you were...” Cleop was away down south to get her tan skin toned.

“I am here now.” Cleop glared at Ptolemy III.

“For one, do not call me Marius. I am Ptolemy III, or Pharoah, if you wish to address me. I invited Julius Caesar from Rome to visit us. We need the Romans strength to aid us.”

“Are we that weak?” Cleop asked.

“We are not, but the others are onto us soon. We have been paying the Sicilians, but they are too far away to assist if we ever get invaded. We got the Texans on our borders. The Porto Ricos are making overtures.” Ptolemy III told Cleop. "I was approached by Rome, or more specifically, the Romans, and with them on our side, we could do without the Sicilians. Or any others.”

“How will we win over the Romans?” Cleop asked.

“Well, I was thinking of...”

“To make me a whore to be pimp to Caesar? You must be mad. I am Lady Cleop of Egypt.”

“Exactly my thoughts. You will consolidate our strength.”

“Fuck …… Forget that ever happening. My mother had Ptolemy II, but not... Cleop was upset. “You are...”

“To protect Egypt, we all sacrificed our...”

“Fuck off, Ptolemy.” Cleop stormed off.

 

 

 

 

The Loyal Lieutenants Act Five Scene One Sub Scene Two

 

Act Five

Scene One

Sub-Scene Two 

The discussion.

 

Mark watched the vehicle holding the Treasury agent leave the building. He sat there and looked at the empty space. He had been there before, when he was part of the trio that beat the Visigoth member. It was the earlier days of the Romans. He was with two others, Davis, and Matthew, armed with truncheons and daggers. The Visigoths were unarmed and had their feet bound by the heavy chain. It was an unfair fight, or they would not have named it the Arena of Death.

The Visigoth was a huge guy, with big biceps on the arms. He was nicknamed “Bear, hence the message was to be returned to the Visigoths, where even bears can be killed.

Unaffected by reputation, the Romans have their own rules.

The bear screamed out in pain when the truncheon hit his left knee, but he retaliated with a solid left hook to the attacker in the face. Mark fell to the sidelines, nursing his bruised jaw. Davis was next to grab the opportunity to slam his truncheon on the bear’s right side of the face. The bear looked over at Davis, and it was then that Matthew sneaked in from the left side to slash the left knees. The bruised knee with the new wound caused the bear to reach down to hold the bleeding, and it was the opportunity sought by Mark to do an overhead blow with a jump. He hit the bear on the back of the neck and turned his body to lay a kick on the staggering giant. The bear fell onto his back, and Davis went in with the deadly blow to the throat while Matthew stabbed the dagger into the wounded left knee.

“Arghh…...” The bear chocked on the blow to the throat, and Mark went in for the kill with the truncheon stabbed into the left eye and impacted on the brain behind it.

The bear was in his dead throes then.

“Romans’ win!” It was Crassus who called for the fight, which roared out. He turned to the winning trio and congratulated them. The bear was sent back to the Visigoths with a message to leave the Romans alone, but they took down three Romans as vengeance and sent back their heads.

The war with the Visigoths lasted two months before a truce was called, but the number of dead listed was over a dozen, with double that number injured. Matthew was one; he lost his right eye.

“I fought here once, Enobarbus.” Mark sighed. “It was bloody, but it was not my call. Crassus then made us do it.”

“The arena is a bad sport, but that was how we did things then.” Enobarbus reminded Mark. “We are the viscous ones.”

“We still are. Tell me of the findings of yours.”

“All the clues lead to one gang: Egypt, but I do not know the motive. Moses and Lucas were friends for their own goals and went there together. Who did they meet? I have no clue. There were some words that Moses was killed by Pompey, but they were unfounded.”

“The ice shoe? That was new.” Mark had his thoughts on the cement shoes.

“The ice factories were nearby, but they did not think that the ice would float upwards, or were bloody and inexperienced.” Enobarbus said. “If we are to know more, we need to check on Egypt.”

“Caesar is leaving for Egypt. He should be at the station now. I cannot go without his permission. And you cannot, for you are to investigate Moses’ death.” Mark looked to the area marked by the arena.

“We could send the agent. He is neutral here.” Enobarbus suggested.

“That was why I brought him here. He may be able to find out more in Egypt, but he needed protection. The boys can be there with him.”

“What of his boss?”

“I cleared with the captain. Mr. Ness is on leave pending an investigation into the shootout at the motel. It caused the Romans a hefty payout to the Coppers’ Fund.”

“What of your wife?” Mark asked.

"Jeane is dead, and that is considered done. I had the clean-up crew wipe the room and...”

“The Independence is having some good prints on the killing.” Mark reminded Enobarbus. “You got to cut that story short. Give them something bigger to bite into.”

“Like ‘Best’ and the latest copper case.” Mark added. “The editor, Peter Marker, is an ex-copper, and he will lean on some findings there. Throw the bait that it was... a gang hit. Maybe the Parthians or... Muddles.”

“Boss, you are walking on thin ice here. If they ever knew, we would be in their sights for a shootout." Enobarbus cautioned the boss.

“I know, but I need them after your wife’s death.” Mark looked at the Enobarbus. “Focus on Moses, and then we go to Egypt together. I hear the weather is fine.”

 

 

 

 

 

The Loyal Lieutenants Act Zero Scene Five

 

Act Zero

Scene Five

 

Enobarbus sat in the T-Ford across the street, looking at the shop. He buys his suits at the shops; he has no special needs but the standard shades and cuts. He does pay too much for it.

“It is cheaper to buy a new suit when stained than to get a dry clean on it. The laundrettes do not charge cheap, and if I were to get one done free with the tongs, they will add interest to the favour." Enobarbus told Agrippa. “I just tossed them away.”

“With your selection, I would not know the differences.” Agrippa told him. The Enobarbus selection was in three shades, and he held over a dozen suits.

“What colors are your underpants?” Menas had asked.

“I do not have any. I prefer to be without them. That way, all I need to do is unzip and be done.” Enobarbus laughed. His wife said he was so in a hurry.

That day, he was not. He had waited there for over two hours. She has been in there since then. He had waited too long and took too long to cross the street. He entered the shop, and the assistant there was shocked to see him.

“Where?” He then saw the side door and went towards it. It led to the upper level. He mounted the stairs, one step at a time. He saw the door there and reached for the latch.

“Hello, my dear.” Enobarbus greeted his wife. She was nude on the bedding, giving the tailor a blowjob. The tailor, seeing the husband, pushed the lady off him and reached for the bathrobe.

“You do not have any guns here besides your squitter?” Enobarbus asked.

“How dare you ……” Jeane was furious. She did not bother to cover up on the bed. Enobarbus walked towards his wife to lay a slap on her face. He had no qualms about slapping any women in his works.

“Dresser drawer there.” The tailor motioned to the dresser there. Enobarbus walked over and retrieved the gun. It was a Browning M1911, and the clip was full.

“You own a gun that is bigger than what you have.” Enobarbus aimed the gun at the tailor. “Name and profession. You are not a tailor, so do not tell me that lie.”

“Ernie, he is...” Jeane protested, and Enobarbus shot her in the left breast.

“I never liked that anyway.” Enobarbus looked to the tailor. “It was difficult for me to bite.”

“Pendulous……. It was... pendulous.” The tailor said: “I am not a tailor. I am a doctor. A surgeon, to be exact.”

“Name and...” Enobarbus looked to the so-named surgeon. “You have any scalpels here?”

“Oh, God. I …….” The surgeon pleaded. “I was just doing her a favour. She wanted to be smaller. I am Doctor Alik Basu, from the southeast. I am here. I studied at Johns Hopkins.”

The origins of plastic surgery can be traced back to ancient civilizations such as India, Egypt, and Greece. It was coined from the Greek word plastikos, which means to shape or mold something. The term plastic surgery was first used in the 1800s to describe the process in which doctors and surgeons reshaped or moulded body tissue. With a desire to change or improve our appearances, plastic surgery is one of the earliest forms of medicine. The first formal training program for plastic surgery was created at Johns Hopkins in 1924.

“Why?”

“She... God, I do not want to die. I was assigned by Pharoah. He wants me to get close to you. You are a... Lieutenant?”

“Why?’

“We need information. You are one...”

“I am……. I was away most of the time. I hardly at... Why?” Enobarbus was disgusted.

“You …… I do not know. I am just to...”

“Fuck her.” Enobarbus shot the tailor in the groin. “You are far too big for her.”

“Arghh……” The tailor grabbed his testicles. Enobarbus shot him above. “Why?”

“I asked the questions here. You are to die.” Enobarbus shot the tailor in the face. He then walked down and met the assistant, pale in expression.

“Call the coppers later. Then leave the shop. Take all the money in the office.”

The copper’s report was brief.

“Dead lady at the tailor. The owner also shot. Money was missing and the assistant held for questioning. No witnesses.”

The independent newspaper agency called Independence had a different reading: “Roman lady dead. Probably an illicit affair.” They outsold their prints that day.

It also ruined Cicero's dinner. He called Brutus, but the other did not take his call.

 

The Loyal Lieutenants Act Five Scene One Sub Scene One

 

Act Five

Scene One

Sub-Scene One

The first meeting.

 

Elliot was to have the hood removed when the vehicle stopped. He adjusted his vision to accommodate the bright lights. He looked to his left and saw the other person who sat there at the rear. There was one driver and another at the front.

“Mr. Ness, please step down. Our boss is waiting for you.” Elliot heard the request. He was frisked in the vehicle before the hood was placed over his head. He stepped off and looked at the surroundings. He was in a sort of huge building, probably a warehouse. There were the racks with the crates on them on both sides and to the far rear of the building. He saw then table with it seated was two figures.

“Welcome, Mr. Ness. This is our warehouse. My name is...”

“I am Elliot Ness, a Treasury Agent. You may be charged with...” Elliot cut in.

“Kidnap? We are not doing that. We just invited you over.” The figure on the left spoke. “If we were not there to take you off the street, you may be dead by now. Not by the coppers, but the Muddles would do a better job. You did kill their leader, Liam Neeson.”

“I did not kill anyone... Not until that day. I was... ambushed.”

“Hit upon or line up for one. It does not matter. The job was to kill you, and they failed.” The other figure seated there spoke. “You are safe here now. This place is secured, and if you are friendly to us, we will keep you in that form.”

“Who are you? Romans? Visigoths?” Elliot asked. “I am Elliot Ness, Treasury.”

“Mr. Ness, we are fully aware of your identity. Our friends at the Treasury sent over your profile. You are new to the task and do not have much to report on.” The figure on the left pushed the paper folder on the desk forward.

“You are not the top recruit, and your shooting results were above average. Those were cardboards compared to the last shoot-out. However, you have a remarkable record in analytics. Something Lucas Perry lacked. He was more of a brawn than a brain." The figure on the right spoke. “Please take the seat before us. We will have a decent conversation.”

“My name is Mark Antony, and this is Enobarbus. Pardon his dressing. His wife died recently, and so did the cat.” Mark introduced himself.

“Romans? I was expecting that you guys would have me shot earlier.” Elliot smiled. He then took the seat there and faced the two figures. He had not read all the profiles of the Romans but had heard of Enobarbus. The latter was a copper and then turned enforcer for the Romans. He held a reputation as a hard-case killer. He has a file with Treasury for his moonshine business. He was the Romans contact with the Middle States for the booze. It was a thin file, and the records were bare.

“The Romans are civilized in our killings. We do not shoot at random.” Enobarbus said to Elliot:.

“Yes, I read, unlike the coppers, who may get overzealous to do that at times.” Elliot looked at the other. Enobarbus was once suspended for shooting an innocent bystander. He was spared the punishment but handed in his badge soon after.

“For the record, I did not kill Liam of the Muddles... I heard of it, but I was not onto them in any case. I spoke to Liam Nesson earlier on the” Elliot was trying to clear up his involvement.

“We are not here to investigate that. I am sure the Muddles have their enemies, and Liam got killed as a result. However, the Muddles are hot-headed and pointed the finger towards you. We figured they killed ‘Best’ as it was him who brought you to see Liam.” Enobarbus laid out the facts.

“We thought that even the score, but the coppers took it onto you. That baffles us.” Mark added. “Unless the coppers think you killed ‘Best’.”

“Or the coppers were on Muddles payroll.” Enobarbus smiled. “Money ruled in Rome.”

“Rome is ruled by the Romans.” Elliot said. “And the coppers too.”

“Most of it, but why did you visit the Muddles?” Mark asked.

“I was there...”

“The captain told us your assignment.” Enobarbus spoke out. “Mr. Ness, we are here to keep you alive. Please be truthful.”

“I was asking about Lucas Perry.” Elliot looked hard at Enobarbus. “He was a Treasury Agent and may... I have reports that the Muddles are into the booze business.”

“So, you did. That was good of you to be truthful.” Mark said.

“I am truthful. I have nothing to hide.” Elliot was upset. In his status, he need not talk to any Romans.

“Was it to check on Moses that you met Liam?” Enobarbus was past the nice formalities and went for the kill.

“Yes, I was told to check on Moses death. I heard the rumours that he was killed by the Muddles too.” Elliot tossed the bait. Enobarbus leaned over to whisper to Mark.

“Moses was... may not be killed by the Muddles.” Mark tossed back a bait. “We …….”

“Work with me. I can use my office to get more information." Elliot jumped in. “I just want to move on the case.”

“Find out why Lucas was in Egypt.” Mark tossed the next bait. “Share with us the update. We will keep your life breathing.”

“You toy with us, and we will dangle you like a puppet for the Muddles.” Enobarbus threatened the other.

“It will be mutual. I will like to leave now.” Elliot stood up to leave.

“The three boys there will shadow you from now on. That is Albert. Speak to him about where you want to go. Your things are taken out of the motel to our safe house, where you stay.” Enobarbus looked at the Treasury Agent. “Be nice. Chapin, there will not be poison in your meals when he cooks them. “

 

 

 

The Loyal Lieutenants Act Four Scene Two Sub Scene One

 

Act Four

Scene Two

Sub-Scene One

The killing has never ended.

 

In the motel room, Elliot repacked his bags, which had never been unpacked since he arrived. He had worn the same suit fora few a few days. And another, and the previous one was in the laundry. The Treasury covers the accommodation and meals, but not the laundry.

Not even the bullets you fire. They supplied the gun and a standard clip, while the rest is yours to cover. If you lose the gun, you replace it with your own gun.

Elliot looked at the revolver he had worn on his shoulder holster. It was the S&W Model 1905; six bullets chambered were the issue at his graduation. He had fired the revolver many times in the range but never once in action. It was not necessary then.

In his assignment, he carried the Col, a, a M911; recoil-operated, semi-automatic pistol chamberethe.45the.45 ACP cartridge. It was given to him by his uncle, who was previously in the military.

“Elliot, in the line of work, you may need the firepower to kill the one shooting at you.” The uncle, who served in battles during the last Great War, passed him the gun. “It saved my life then and will do the same for you as we are the untouchables.”

Elliot picked up the gun and weighed it in his left hand. It was manageable with the seven bullets clip, and it gave him confidence in the swagger to meet the gangs. He had practiced lifting the jacket by the side of the holster towards the mirror. It was supposed to intimidate the other then.

The other item he holds on him was the knuckle bus, which is, fitted and designed to be worn around the knuckles of the human hand as is was made from brass. He kept that handy in the right-side jacket pocket for fast access. He practiced hitting the wooden doors, but stopped when his knuckles ached. It was another item handed to him by his uncle.

“It saved my life when in close combat with the Huns. I broke some jaws with it.”

The brass lends weight to the item and is and is designed to preserve and concentrate a punch's force by directing it toward a harder and smaller contact area, resulting in increased tissue disruption or fracturing the bones on impact.

“Once I broke the puma’s snort with it.” That was probably an exaggeration by the uncle, who never left the wheelchair at the home after the war.

Elliot heard the knock on the door. He was not expecting anyone, and with ‘Best’ dead, no one would visit him or know he was there. He grabbed the M1911 and walked to the door. He stopped a few feet away and took a sideway to the door. The bed was facing the doorway, and where he was standing was next to the wooden closet. He stomped his feet several times and then stopped.

The bullets that riddled the door fired from the Tommy gun. The.45 bullets made some holes in the door and impacted through to hit the bed frame. The shooter then kicked the door and rushed.

“Fuck!” It was the surprise expression on the shooter when he stepped in before Elliot shot him in the right side of the chest and groin. The shooter went down, groaning, but the trigger on the Tommy was still pressed, and the aim was towards the bed. The bed was soon creaking from the bullets impact.

“Dan!” The backup shooter peeked in and saw Elliot there with the smoking gun. “He killed Dan. I …...”

Elliot had rushed to the other far wall for cover when the second shooter pelted the room with the double-gauge shotgun in the closet. That was a wild two shots, and the shooter was without any ammo. When he was reloading, Elliot stepped forward and shot him in the chest with his third bullet. He fell backwards toward the corridor.

“Arghh……”

Elliot, on reflex, crouched down when the third shooter took to fire wildly into the room from the doorway. The shooter was aiming the shots from right to left and back. He then leaned on the outside wall and called the second shooter.

“Move it, Shelby. We are done.”

“Help me with Dan. We cannot leave him here.” The one named Shelby held onto his guts with his left hand, trying to pull Dan along. The third shooter leaned in and took another shot of bullets to deter Elliot. Then he assisted Shelby in dragging Dan out. Elliot remained crouched, listening to the sound of the assailants retreating. He then sat down on his haunches, and the shakes came to his hands.

Elliot Ness had just fired his gun in killing and survived a shootout.

“I …….” Elliot’s shakes reached his chest, where his heartbeats were fast. He dropped his gun and grabbed his knees towards his chest. He heard the sirens in the distance, but all that mattered then was to remain stupid.

“A word of stupidity when in a shootout. You do not think and fire; you fire and continue firing till it's over. Then you may think,” The instructor had reminded him. “The bullet is not your friend. It is to ensure you shoot it at the other. If you think, you are stupid.”

Stupidity also comes with fright.

It took the coppers an hour to arrive, and when they did, they reported back that Elliot was still alive.

“There goes my dollar on him being dead.” That was the comment from the desk sergeant. The report was later filed as a shoot-out at the motel, with no dead bodies seen or found. One Treasury agent survived miraculously. There were no witnesses, and the case was considered close.

However, two days later, another funeral was held for an officer who was shot dead on duty.

“Detective Daniel Dobbins was...” The captain read the eulogy then.

It was while Elliot was released from the infirmary. He stepped off the infirmary steps and stood on the sidewalk. A T-Ford stopped before him.

“Agent Ness, Mark Antony would like to see you.” Elliot was handed the hood to place over his head.

Romans do it their way. 

 

 

 

 

 

Preys and Predators 1 of Part 1

 Part 1

 

1              The theorist

 

“The dualistic model explains the development of personality as occurring through several clashes of the two different instincts, that towards sexual activity and that towards death. The resultant behaviours from these conflicts would produce distinct personalities in everyone.”

(https://homework.study.com/explanation/how-does-freud-s-dualistic-model-explain-the-development-of-personality.html#:~:text=The%20dualistic%20model%20explains%20the,distinct%20personalities%20in%20each%20individual.)

The professor in the science of neurology made his statement across the attendees of the hall: unpaid peers and curious attendees who want to spend their evenings there, and of course the opponents to the professor on any of his theories.

“These differential personality traits come from the superego, ego, and the id. The ego, a critical component of psychoanalytic theory as well, serves as the mediator between the id and the superego. It seeks to satisfy the desires of the id in a way that is both realistic and socially acceptable. Essentially, the ego strives to balance the primal desires of the id with the moral and ethical standards imposed by the superego.”

(extract fromhttps://vusf.wordpress.com/2023/10/26/the-enduring-duality-of-humanity-lessons-from-freud-and-the-strange-case-of-dr-jekyll-and-mr-hyde/).

“Another of your sexual’ fantasy, Doctor?” The distinguished attendee interrupted the professor on his presentation. “Or your superego? I take your presumptions; if I may say that to describe your... theories are unfounded on factual evidence. I …...”

“From my own works and those collaborated by others, the personality of the person is a sequence of mental patterns; collective unconscious that are ingrained in them through memories and learnings. It is integrating to be a part of their self-realization.”

“I stand...” The professor intervened there.

“Clearly, you do hold a stand on your ego, but mine is based on research and factual evidence.” The doctor paused to clear his throat with the whopping, loud cough. He then blew his nose to the annoyance of some others. “Medically unproven. Like how a doctor will diagnose with...”

“I am also a doctor...” The professor had to intervene rudely there.

“A doctor? Perhaps of fallacy and dreams but unproven...” The doctor rudely intruded in the statement.

“Psychology is a new science of learning the thought process...” The professor interjected.

“The new frontier of medical findings, but yours are purely... fictional based on the realm of sexual fantasy. It is frowning on by...”

“Doctor, sexual fantasy, as you stated, is not new to mankind, but the depth and width of it were never explored till now.” The professor was then irate by the other.

“On my land, we are more discreet in our works on topic of sex …...” The doctor there had defended the subject of sex.

“Yet, the current era on your land was characterized by paradox of rigid morality and anti-sensualism, but also by an obsession with sex. Sex was a main social topic, with progressive and enlightened thought pushing for sexual restriction and repression.” The Professor stated the obvious to the doctor.

“On our land, the concern of society had given thoughts on the cause of famine, disease, and war. Conflicts that led to war had often been due to the conflict of sexual desire.”

“Stay on the subject, Doctor.” An audience called out which the doctor ignored.

“To curb the threats of overpopulation, especially of the poor and to solve other social issues that were arising at the time, sex was socially regulated and controlled.”

“God save the Queen!” Another audience called out.

“New sexual categories emerged as a response, defining normal and abnormal sex.  Heterosexual sex between married couples became the only form of sex socially and morally permissible. Sexual pleasure and desire beyond heterosexual marriage was labelled as deviant, considered to be sinful and sinister. Such deviant forms included masturbation, homosexuality, prostitution, and pornography.” The Professor interjected. “It was the work of the mind to overcome the barriers.”

(extract from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Victorian_erotica)

“Hail thee, thy greatness. Pornography rules hard in us.” One of the audiences praised the Professor.

“Watching pornography is scopophilia – “the obtaining of sexual pleasure by looking at nude bodies, erotic photographs.” They different types of this scopophilia, namely an active (masculine) and a passive (feminine) variety.” The Professor added.

(Extract from https://roosdesnaeck.wordpress.com/2014/03/04/playing-with-oneself-in-front-of-the-other-the-dark-side-of-representation-perversion-pornography-and-psychoanalysis/#:~:text=According%20to%20Freud%2C%20it%20is,a%20passive%20(feminine)%20variety.)

“I will not be drawn into this argument today.” The Doctor was upset at the depth of the topic. It was not his true expertise.

“Clearly, my peer here is an example of the superego, but of late I doubt he held the tool to express himself except to huff and puff at my findings.” The professor retorted back to the other rebuke on his works. “Perhaps in his fantasy, he will be seen effective.”

“I am not impotent, Professor...” The doctor defended his ego, but the professor was insistent on stressing his view on the issue.

“Perhaps, Doctor John here may, in his... fantasy, be blowing down pigs’ abodes once too often.” The professor smiled at the doctor. The doctor held the expression of a howling wolf with the garish long side burns and hooked his nose with the affinity to puff at the tobacco pipe held with his right hand.

“I …… I will not listen to you anymore, Freud. You are an embarrassment to the fraternity of the medical profession.” The doctor stood up and glared at the others who were there to hear the talk.

“I will suggest that all of you do the same as I am and leave this deranged man to his dreams…...Yes, to me, they are all dreams and not intellectual works of brilliance.” The doctor then turned to leave before he was stopped by the professor.

“John, I would suggest that you retrieve your cane and hat you left behind at the chair.” The professor smiled at the medical doctor. “And your trouser is not in its proper order.”

“What do you...” The doctor looked down and saw the front of his trousers was not buttoned. He was at the privy prior to attending the talk. His expression was alternating between embarrassment and anger then. He stormed off from the hall, followed by his aide, who retrieved his cane and hat. The other attendees roared out in laughter before the professor raised his arms to stop the laughter.

“As I was to express my...” The professor was then interrupted by another who walked in.

“There’s been another murder.” The statement was heard by all, and the attendees all in turn walked out. “It is on York Street.”

York Street was nearby the hall.

“I do apologize for the interruptions, Professor." The city rep who had extended the invitation to the professor apologized.

“Narry your fault, young man. Pardon me if I were to borrow an expression of yours. I will be here for the next few weeks, barring any calls from my home. I can return to do the continuance.”

“Thank you, Professor, but I have other matters to attend.” The young city rep was off on his way to check on the latest murder.

“I guess the murder took precedent to the works of my theory.” The professor sighed while he watched the hall empty then. “Duplicity knowledge ignored or whichever offers more excitement. I guarantee I will see my pet sooner than expected.”

“Yofi may be lonely by now.” Yofi is the pet dog of the professor whom he left at his hotel room. The Professor put on the gloves over his hands, and adjusted the sleeve of his shirt.

Preys and Predators Prelude

 PREY AND PREDATORS

The Heroes

 

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

The seven are to meet soon.

Professor Freud

Sherlock Holmes

Doctor Watson

Dr. Henry Jekyll

Count Vlad Tepes

Rosa Quasi

Mary Reid

 

Jimmy Loong

Some days during OCT 2024, after a lapse of ‘blank creativity’, the urge of typing prompted the mind to rebuilt its function….

18^th Oct, I am still at it.

31^st Oct 1417hrs…. done at 61,935 words at over 50 chapters……

Ideas are like rabbits. You get a couple and learn how to handle them, and soon you have a dozen. – John Steinbeck