Story Write Compilations Volume 2 Stories 16

 Mary of Bingham

 

Author's Note: During the early part of the period, there was no real enforcement agency until 1829 when Metropolitan Police was founded. Before that period, only the knights or the Lords commanded law and order. This is a tale before then when the King had to intervene with personal aides assigned to do such tasks.

This is one tale of that aide who happened to be a lady named Mary of Bingham. She is a 'detective' and a vixen too...

 

Contests rules:

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

I had to be careful as there are men around the place. If I am seen by any, they would send word back to my household and I would be given a beating by the mistress for being away without her permission. She may not have to know it like it's her hour of sleep now and this task calls for discretion on my end. I hold the little wrapping close to my heart as I run down the path to the pre-agreed meeting place.

 

"Alas, I would be late." I pushed my legs to walked briskly as I held my head down from the stares of any who may have laid their eyes on me. Its dangerous times which we live in now as orders ruled by the elites and rich while we the poor ones are subject to their chaos. Many had died in the last plaque but I survived as I was smart to avoid the sick and kept locked in the manor lest I be exposed to the sickness that prevails outside. I cried my sins to the Fathers' and plead for my redemption of the sin, but my life meant more to me than it would ever be now. It's not often that you get a beau to love you for not your flesh but also your soul, and it's he whom I run to seek now. The little wrapping I carry with me would be his tool to free me of my misery and also his to be restored to his previous standing among the elites. He needs it to clear his name and his family crest be erected back on its pedestal in the great hall of the manor.

 

It's the tunnel under the bridge, I am seeking, and what awaits there would be my purpose of such a risky journey. I hurried to the side of the bridge and slide down the thickets on the slope. It may dirty my dress but it does not stop me from my quest. I am down on the small stream that runs beneath it.

 

"Mary, bless be there for you are here. I was afraid you be forgotten and I was to leave." It's my friend and lover in this crime, Bruce of Lockshire. He is dressed in his uniform of the Royal Musketeer but due to his current standing, he is a junior officer in the ranks. Brian was relieved of his inheritance as he is the bastard son of a rich Lord but his mother is of the wrong descent... His mother's country is now technically at war with England, making his life all the more difficult. So he was stripped of his rank and demoted to the lowest junior one. His only way to reclaim his rank and title was to prove his link to the father who was the Lord. But the old man has died and now the estate is under the rightful heir, Charles of Lockshire. It has been a bitter fight for the two as they journey to Court and demand justice be carried out.

 

I ran into his arms and he held me tight, while our lips were sealed in tight with the surge of passion that thrill down our spine. At that moment, all of my concerns slipped away as I returned his passionate kisses on mine. He trails his kisses to my left cheeks and down my neck to nibble at my shoulder... His tiny bites on my shoulder caused me to move my upper body to his caress as he trails his lips below my jaw.

 

"Brian, we must stop....." but my words meant nothing to my heart as I longed for him to continue on his minstrel on my sensitive spots below my neck. His hands were not as rigid in their movements they tried to lower my bodice to maul my body further on. But my senses came to mind and I pushed him apart. "Brian, time is of importance. Here is what you needed. Do good with it and you may claim me for yours. I must go as she may be awake soon."

 

"I am so sorry, Mary. My love for you has blinded me from the task on hand. I give you my solemn promise that upon the deliverance of these documents, I would be at your aside and claimed you for mine. Not in flesh but also love as my wife." He was ever sweet in his choice of words but I know the throes of passion have to end for now. "I would be back as soon as I can."

 

I watched as the passionate man ran up the slope and mount his horse. He was riding in his stead while I adjust my clothes to look prim and proper. Then I took my path back to the Manor and the dreaded life within its walls. But this time I came home not to a dreadful life but a more torturous one indeed.

 

"Mary of Bingham. I brought you here to live a life better than your previous ones, with food and shelter to provide on a needful and daily basis. The same needs which I gave you also saved you from the disease that ravages your family members. And this I am shown by your return of my hospitality; a treacherous steal of some of my personal effects and passing it to my half brother, Brian. You are a young fool to allow him to liberty of you to do such foul acts. Tell me, do I speak the truth, Mary Of Bingham. And how may I tell the King of your treachery." The man who retorted me is Charles, the current rightful owner of this manor and estate. He is also the half-brother of Brian whom he had acquired the other's share of the inheritance by acts of stealth and cheats.

 

I am who he said; a lady of a fine home raising until the plague claimed everyone leaving me an orphan. But his take on my inheritance was partially true. The family I was with is a fine home of a Lord that was close to the King. Upon my loss, I was to stay with the household of the King. As I have displayed my uncanny abilities in resolving many cases that confused the Kings' advisers, the King has given me this unique task to resolve. The King admires the family and does not want the public bad of him when he is judged on it. So he asked me to determine the truth of the matter. For me to perform the task, I was given refuge here in the manor as an orphan in need of love and family. But in my refuge, I discovered more than the truth through my investigation as I find myself in love with the persons involved in the case. A sin which I have confessed at the booth every Sunday.

 

"Yes, what you said is correct. I did relieve you of the documents to pass to your half-brother, but it's not what you may think. Brian is on the verge of taking over your estate with the emergence of the new will which you were not privy to. And my in-depth investigation for the last year as the King's Special Investigator of the Court, I have performed treachery in this case. If you must know why I would explain. I have failed to rebuke Brian's claim as there was none to disqualify the will. He is well defended by his birth mother who was your father's lover before. It's not a hidden but a known fact among the peers. Nevertheless, Brian needed that document which is in your care to consolidate his position, and I handed him that. A document you hold which tells of your father's association to the  French lady. That document boosts his chance to be declared equal heir as his birth mother. But I have also a signed confession from the treacherous Baron Helmut which implicates your family in trying to overthrow the King. " I gazed into the man's eyes to see if he does understand me. He did not.

 

"A letter which would implicate me too; I am also his son. So by default, both Brian and I are traitors. We would both be hanged in the Tower of London." My master now pleads for his innocence.

 

"Yes, you impudent fool." I am annoyed at the poor reasoning thoughts of this man. "That document I gave him would be his final seal on this estate."

 

The lord, Charles of Lockshire who was enraged now by my action. "You were supposed to stop this action as the Investigator. How can you let a job like this goes to waste after all the long planning we did."

 

"So my love, you still take me for a fool in this matter. I am not as you can see but a meticulous person of fine details. The King has been advised by another letter that you were not privy to the matter unlike your brother and his devious mother. They have been manipulating your father without your knowledge. That cleared your name, and upon the death of both your parent, you are the rightful inheritor of the estate."

 

"A vixen indeed but I am glad you are mine. I could never have planned such a wide range of events and yet you did it yourself. I salute you as my wife, Mary of Bingham." He is now relieved and laughs his heart out.

 

"A skill which I hoped would be inherited by our future children. Maybe a fine detective could be born by then. Do you agree with me, Charles Holmes of Lockshire?"

 

"With you as my wife, all I need to understand are the elementary parts. Mary of Bingham." The couple tossed a drink to the unwary lone rider who carried his death warrant in the little wrapping.

 

 

 

Story Write Compilations Volume 2 Stories 15

 My extended Tale

 

Author's Note: It's all about winning at the game of Tiddy Wink

 

Contests rules:

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

They say that it's not about winning the battle, it's about winning the war....who are "they", these all-knowing, all wise-purveyors of aphoristic wisdom? "They" have probably never been in a battle, never mind a war. "They", who dispense their wisdom freely to anyone who will listen, give that wisdom its value; if they can afford to give it away thus freely, what is it worth? But "They" will not hear this question, nor debate the obvious answer; subconsciously perhaps, unthinkingly, certainly, they are aware they have a 50-50 chance of being right, and that's good enough odds since they won't gamble anything more than their considered opinion on the outcome; it's not much to wager on such an important game of tiddlywinks!

 

"Major, you got your turn now. Show me how well you can lob your chip into the cup. I wager you the hostage if you win. Or you give me back all my previous hostages." I looked up at the pompous idiot who has ever don a uniform. Six hours ago, we were fighting a battle with real guns and ammunition. The tides of the battle favored my side but if not for his devious methods, he would not have landed the General and his staff into his hands. The equally idiotic General of my side had to take a leak while in the front. Now he is leaking between his legs as a gun is held to his head.

 

When we were told to negotiate the terms of release, I came up with his idea to settle the negotiation. This game has taken me more than an hour of playtime but it bought me two of the three hostages back to my side leaving only one last person, the insufferable General. I survey the game plan and then I stood up from the table.

 

"No, I think I would not wager on my hard wins. You can close the game now and we call it square." That took the General of mine to issue out words of profanities directed at me. But my opponent was taken aback by my action and pleaded for me to continue. I looked at my watch and ponder my decision. I walked to the table and re-looked at the strategy.

 

"OK, but only one last round. No more after this. We fight like a man again. Agreed?" The opponent of mine agreed. So I bend down my back to study the game. I took up the flipper and pressed on the chip. It flew up high and landed on the surprised opponent's face. He was distracted by it and so were his men. Then was the time, I took to grabbed hold of my General and issued the order. The men already in place on my previous arrangement barged in and shot the enemies dead including my opponent.

 

"Thank you, Major. That was a good rescue effort." The General thank me but I shook my head.

 

"I did aim for the cup but I seemed to have missed. Never mind, it's not the game that counts; it's winning the tournament that matters."

 

 

 

Story Write Compilations Volume 2 Stories 14

 My Brief Stay in Ethiopia

 

Author's Note: The pictures say it all.

 

Contests rules:

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

The ride to the camp was an overnight one in a  convoy of forty trucks and five armored cars manned by soldiers holding onto the heavy machine guns. They are ready for any eventualities but I asked myself' are we ready for them. My name is Jordan Drew, a relief worker with the non-profit organization looking to bring hope to some poor souls in this large continent. The people of this place have been suffering from man-made problems to that of nature, but the victims are all the same; it's innocent people. They suffered hunger, illness for their stay here in this harsh country, and then come to the men with weapons to add more to their misery. Here I am from a country where we know not of such sufferings and now hoping to share our generosity to them but truly I asked myself, are we prepared to face such reality.

 

I don't know. But I would try to relate how it is when I reached the camp.

 

We arrive shortly after the noon sun and we sighted the camp. It spread out over five miles and it is neither rectangle nor square as more fences are put to cater for more of the refugees coming in daily. The truck stopped outside the camp at the Logistics Warehouse and I was the first to disembark. I stepped onto the hard ground which has not seen rain for many days now, and the dust just enveloped your shoes as you step on them. I looked up from new trainer shoes to the eight-foot-high fencing which separates us from the ones we are to assist. As I stood there looking at the faces staring at me, I can't help seeing a young boy of about seven years of age looking at me with his blank expression. His head is covered with a tardy-looking scarf that has probably not see water for days, but the secreted sweat may had coated dry on it. What caught my attention was not the dressing of the boy but the way she stared at me with his eyes. He is probably thinking about what I looked like to him; all dressed up in this white t-shirt and jeans, plus shades and a bottle of water in my right hand. He has probably seen all that but maybe the clean looks of my skin may have surprised him.

 

I took my steps towards him but as I was near to the wall, more of those behind the fence has convened at where I was headed. My little friend was not seen behind the small built-up of the people with eager expressions on their faces. I think they are eyeing not my body but my water bottle. I reached for it, but a soldier came up to me and tapped my shoulder. He did not speak but used his gun to motioned to me to retreat from the line. I took his concern was I could generate a mob or a rush which they needed last to control right now. I nodded my understanding and retreated the line. Once again as I moved away, the earlier crowd dispersed and I find myself seeing the same boy standing there as previously. I stared at him and then I pointed to my water bottle with my finger. The boy was without any expression as I keep on tapping my water bottle.

 

Then the warning call came; it's a siren that signaled the attacks by the rival factions on the refugees. The procedure was we are to hide under any covers including trucks and bunkers. I crouched myself down and await the coming attack. It was brief with some shells shot by cannons on our camp by the opposing faction. But the shells fell short and all was safe for now. I crawled out and surveyed the surrounding area which is now coated with dust and people running to get organized again. I looked back at the fence and see my little boy still standing there not moving at all. I smiled at him for he is a brave kid who did not even move when we all adults ran for cover in that attack.

 

As I was to assist in the carrying of supplies, the siren rang again, and this time the shells hit our lines and around us. I crawled under the truck to sit out the shelling. It went on for a few minutes and then it stopped. From above us, we can hear the planes soaring past to seek the artillery pieces and reduced them to nothing. I got out from underneath the truck and looked back for my little boy.

 

But he is not there anymore. He is no more in the crowd at all, but where he stood lies a large shell blast hole. The authorities counted twelve dead and five missings plus another dozen injured. I could not believe it then as that was my first sight of the many scenes I would see during my stay here. Today, I stand looking expressionless to the new refugees as they walked into the camp from their war-torn homes. I see them as passing images with no regard as to who and where they come from. To me, it's not important but what I do next was to get them adjusted to the new life behind the fence while the predators prey outside it. It's all I could do as I hold no power to end the war.

 

Today, I am back in my own country and I take long walks in the countryside. I always walked with my water bottle filled with water to wash my face but no matter how many times I do, I still find myself looking at the little boy behind the fence. His sight haunts me till today.

 

 

 

Weekend Special Short Tales California 2.4 Chapter 9

 9.

 

Charlie heard the sirens at 2400hrs. It was faint and he saw the SWAT vehicle. He knew the authorities were there. The SWAT truck was parked at the street, and his men slaughtered. He wanted to call it off but then he saw the approaching men.

“Bugs and company.” Charlie cursed. His reinforcement was late. He was with four others and they took guard over the doorway. They opened fire at Bugs and company.

“Take cover!” Bugs called out. The men with him took to the cars and SUV before firing back. “We need to get in fast. Toss the grenades.”

Doc and Daffy tossed in a grenade each but it landed just outside the doorway.

It was 0004hrs.

Charlie had the entrance well covered and his fire power was halting the advance. He saw the grenades and called out the warning. The men cowered behind the reinforced walls when the grenades exploded just outside the doorway. Charlie was without the grenades. He called for a tactical withdrawal.

“Move back and hold our position near the stairs.” Charlie knew the doorway will present a narrow targeting area and he focused his men on there.

Bugs had advanced with the men to the doorway. Coyote and Runner was on the left side while Daffy and Piggy took the right. Bugs was with Doc just before the entrance.

“We got to get in.” Bugs called in. He looked at his watch. It read as 0007hrs.

“Bugs, we got one squad of SWAT here. And about a dozen patrolmen.” That was Bitch reporting. “I am responding with cover fire.” The Bitch took shots at the patrolmen to get them under cover. She knew that the SWAT Team will be a six men squad, and they will be moving to firing position. 

“I want two shooters on the left, and two on the right.” Sergeant Cooper called out to his squad. He checked his watch. The call came in at 2330hrs, and it was his shift call then which was to end at 2400hrs.

“Sam, you take the turret and lay cover fire.” The newly arrived SWAT team also came in the ‘Lenco Armored Vehicle’ but theirs was with the official Police Emblem.

“I am calling in another team on the other end. We will box them in. All silent on the sirens.” Sergeant Cooper then called in more reinforcement. He then looked to the patrolmen there. It was another Sergeant but he was with the uniformed patrolmen.

“It’s the Chief in there, Max” Sergeant Cooper told the other. “He radioed in that he was shot and was to come here as it was nearer.”

“Why do you call her a HE? She is a bitch.” Max chuckled.

“That’s because when she is fucking you, it’s like some jacked the truncheon in your ass.” Cooper laughed.

“The fuck of a choice. She probably could not explain her wounds. And we have hostile shooters here. Who are those shooters there? What did she do? Shoot the Mayor or the Cartel? The units responded to the call on shooting in the area. The first responder had arrived and saw the gathered. He called in and we came.” Max explained the call. “Hostile shootout and your unit called in.:

“It my bloody shift but I did not know the Chief was here. I was to pick my wife later but the call came in from the other Supe. He told the Chief was here. Bloody nuisance of her to see the whore at this time.” Cooper voiced out.

“You got to do it and it won’t wait anymore.” Max laughed. “Too bad it was your shift. Why you pick your wife? I thought you guys were going broke.”

“She called to change her mind and now she is probably reboarding back to her mother’s again.” Cooper looked at his watch. “I hate this job.”

“Well, wrap it up quietly, if you see the Chief. If she is dead, then we put the call on the shooters here. The Syndicate will be advised. They have to contain the fallout. They have to called off their goons.” Max whispered to Cooper. “You may get promoted then.”

“Do it.” Cooper muttered. The call went out.

“Everyone to back away from the Hotel. Its unsanctioned.” The call went out and the hotel was isolated. There were grumblings but no one dared to defy the Syndicate.

All was quiet then and so was it at the Hotel. It was 0020hrs. And someone sang the song.

Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place (such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face
Plenty of room at the Hotel California
Any time of year (any time of year)
You can find it here

“Shut up there.” Cooper called out in anger. “Or I will shoot you.”

All was silent thereafter. It was the devil’s hour they used to say.

And it was darn quiet in the hotel.

Graveyard shift was always like that. The nurse sat by the console at the safe room which was also on the Fifth Level next to the stairs. It was a simple console with the keyboard and facing it was a series of twenty screens with five dedicated to each level. There was one central huge screen which was in the middle. He was looking at the First Level. He saw the four figures there had layout the bedding frames with the mattresses to form a barricade. He had seen the six men had mounted the stairs but they remained at the top without going in. They had tried but the door won’t budged. It was because the nurse had locked all the access doors from the stairs to the levels.

“Nurse, give me an update.” The nurse heard the doctor and switched the screen to the other patients.

“Don is laying on the bed at Four.”

“VV is still at Third with the respirator machine. She is sedated.”

“VV may die on us tonight. Heat up the incinerator.” The doctor paused and then continued. “Now tell me of the intruders.”

“The Delagi boys are at the First Floor. I managed to lockdown the accesses. The Triads are on the stairs and Ground Level. Moving to the outside. We got unknown shooters out there and there are the Police.”

“A night which is turning bad for all of us.” The doctor replied. “Bring on communication set on ground and first level. I want to address the intruders.”

The speakers on those levels sounded out.

Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place (such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face
Plenty of room at the Hotel California
Any time of year (any time of year)
You can find it here

The song ended there.

“I am the Doctor. You are in my domain. I don’t like that. Leave in one minute or you meet Tiffany.”

Her mind is Tiffany-twisted, she got the Mercedes bends
She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys she calls friends
How…

The clock read at 0024hrs.

“I am coming for you.” 

Weekend Special Short Tales California 2.4 Chapter 8

 8.

 

When the clock struck 2345hrs, Charlie did not waste time. He had ten of his men to the rear. He knew the schematics of the hotel. The other thirteen was at the front, and they fanned out. He looked at the double doors there, and knew it was reinforced with the steel plates. The windows were also reinforced with bullet proof glass. It was not expected for a hotel but the Hotel California was a previous safe house for the criminals before it was converted to be the hotel cum hospital. The hospital was fully equipped with the MRI and surgery room.

“Take down the doors.” Charlie told his men. The two launchers were FGM-148 Javelin is an American man-portable ant-tank missile capable of penetrating the armor. The High Explosive Anti-Tank (HEAT) contains chemical inside which will melt the armor.

“Fire in the Hole.” Glenn saw the two men mounted the shoulder missiles and called out the warning. He rushed to the rear but there was little cover. He rushed to the lift. He pressed the button but the lift was at the Fifth Level.

“Take the stairs.” Randy followed Glenn and then the others. When the last one closed the door there, the missiles hit the outer doors. The first impact did not break the doors but the second one threw the doors to the middle of the hall. Charlie Sang was first in and followed by the twelve others. There was debris in the Hall.

“Get to the back and open the door there. They are needed here.” Charlie Sang gave new instructions. “Four of you in the lift. The other six of you take the stairs. The thirteen of you will stay here. Once the rest is here, move them up by the stairs in two groups.”

Charlie knew that with the extra fifteen, he was more than ready to take on Danny but he was not prepared for the retaliation that happened so fast. The Triads was then shot at by two of Danny’s men. They had appeared from the exit door and opened fire. The shots from the M14 took down five of Charlie’s men including the four that was to take the lift. The others took cover and return fire to kill the two of Danny’s men.

“Charlie, we are down by five.” The triad member told Charlie.

“Damn! I can count.” Charlie cursed. “Blow the lift!”

The guy with the remaining launcher took aim and shot at the lift. The blast rendered the lift inoperable.

“Now we will take the stairs; six in the group.” Charlie had trained his men in urban combat to battle the SWAT in the case of a firefight. The days of blind firefight with many guns and men was over; the authorities have trained their officers well in urban combat and it included precise shooting with deadly weapons.

“Two shots are all you need. One to the chest to stop the attacker and the other to the head to kill. It’s also called the double-tap technique.” It would had worked in a close shoot out but in a major gun fight with automatics, the rule is back to the brawl technique; shoot on sight regardless.

Six men went to the stairs, leaving three others with Charlie.

“Bad karma…” Charlie muttered.

Back on Level One at 2350hrs, Glenn and Randy were with Danny and one other left of the group. Glenn had moved to the first level. It was a waiting and recuperation hall. There were rows of ten beddings with curtains covering them, and there eight cupboards; double doors. He decided to make a stand there.

“Topple the beddings.” Glenn told Randy. They toppled the bed frame with the beddings. “Get additional mattresses here. It will not stop all the bullets but maybe some.”

“Glenn, you stayed here. I am moving up with my man to see my father.” Danny took off with his man but cursed later when he saw the stairs was sealed off by a metal door. There was a LED signboard there.

‘LOCKDOWN’

“Damn! We need to join the others.” Danny told his man. It was then he was thrown back by the explosion in the lift tunnel. He got up and pulled his man with him. He met Glenn who was reinforcing the beddings. He made a wall of it.

“What happened?” Glenn asked. He was also thrown off his feet by the explosion.

“Looks like Triads have blown the lift away. And we are stuck here for the stairs was barred by a metal doorway.” Danny replied. “It’s a bad day for me.”

It was but the reinforcement had arrived at 2351hrs.

“Bloody day to fight but we are the best for any day.” It was the Merry Melody Men or 3M for short who had arrived. Seven ex-soldiers trained by the best armies then retired to be mercenaries commanded by Bugs Bunny aka Major Alan Landings. The Major was ex-Special Forces and retired early to hire the others on lucrative packages. His second in command was Daffy aka Lieutenant David Firm; ex-Intelligence Officer with a knack of killing in the field. Piggy was Italian and Doc was from Brooklyn, while Coyote and Runner were from Columbia. All were armed with body armor, and carried M14 with the slung over sawn-off shot gun for the close combat.

There was the Bitch and Dyke who were dressed the same but they carried the Artic Sniper Rifle. The sniper rifle with the ammo clip of ten rounds was capable of reaching over four thousand The common weapon was the Beretta 92 in the belt holster with the ten rounds per clip, and two frag grenades each.

The Men arrived in a SWAT armored vehicle. It was a ‘Lenco Armored Vehicle’ design used by SWAT. The powerful Turbo Diesel engine roared from the vehicle down the road towards the hotel. The vehicle doing at fifty miles knocked the stalled cars there and stopped before the barricade of cars manned by the six Triads members.

“Get your fannies out!” The rear door of the armored vehicle was lowered and the Merry Men rushed out.

“Bitches, the take the sniping position.” Bugs gave the command. “Both sides. Others do those damn sentries.”

The bitches went to work. Precision was their trade, and you don’t fuck with them. They are like poison ivy.

“Clear!” The Bitch called out. Bugs stepped out and looked at the dead six Triads. It was an unbalance battle; six armed with the Type 56 against those two ladies with high velocity rifles. It was an orgy and the men did not last.

“Move in.” Bugs called out. It was then he heard the sirens.

It was the SWAT arriving at 2359hrs.

“Bitches, take them out. I am going in the others.” Bugs called out.

 

Dante Book 1 Canto IX Scene II

 Scene 2

 

“If that was the Baptistery, then I will see what I had missed from Florence? Where I came from, was a land of beauty and culture.” Dante then turned to a sarcastic tone. “What infernal place is this? I had my path to the forest, dark and unloving where I had lost three friends, and move onto stepping over headless corpses, and …”

“Dante, hold your sanity. This is not Florence. This is Hell. The Sixth Circle of Hell. The City of Dis.” Virgil comforted the other. Dante could not make out of his emotions then and knelt on the ground.

“Florence was beautiful; its flowers and people, the wine and food, the music and festivals. Where are the palazzo, the galleries, the Piazza ---- what have I here?” Dante looked to the sight that laid before him.

There were the sights of the cemetery lots but smaller parcels hovering in the air with the sight of the souls trying to dig back into it while winged creatures pulled at them to get them off the parcels there. The top of the parcels was aflame and there the souls tried to put the fire out while some had relented to it as it was their retribution. Those that fell were into the mire like pits, struggling to get our while others pushed them back.

It was chaos.

Dante's words summed it up.

“It’s no oasis in the desert. It’s the pits of Hell here which douse them with punishments. What manner of treatment could Hell inflict them here that was not seen before?”

“Foul to eternity, my poet pilgrim.” Virgil addressed Dante. “We are not to judge but to observe, as we journey past. None of us understand the wrath of God on the sinners, for if we ever do, we would not have sinned.”

“Sins? I doubt it was sin that cannot be pardoned.” Dante snapped out. “God, are you not merciless to your worshippers?”

“God may be but many here are not his worshippers. They are Pagans followers; a man with not the faith of God but of idols or perceived visions of it. That is most foul in the eyes of God.”

“Who are they?” Dante asked for clarification as to if he was hard of hearing. “What kind of sinners are these who reside in the open tombs?”

“Arch-heretics and their disciples are buried here,” Virgil replied. “The tombs hold many more sinners than you suspect, and each kind of heretic is entombed with the other heretics who believed incorrectly about God. The tombs burn more brightly for the greater heresies.” (Extracted from https://davidbruceblog.wordpress.com/2017/01/08/dantes-inferno-canto-9-retelling/)

“Heretics?” Peter 2:1-22 spoke of it. They are the false prophets also arose among the people, just as there will be false teachers among you, who will secretly bring in destructive heresies, even denying the Master who bought them, bringing upon themselves swift destruction. And many will follow their sensuality, and because of them, the way of truth will be blasphemed. And in their greed, they will exploit you with false words. Their condemnation from long ago is not idle, and their destruction is not asleep. For if God did not spare angels when they sinned, but cast them into hell and committed them to chains of gloomy darkness to be kept until the judgment; if he did not spare the ancient world, but preserved Noah, a herald of righteousness, with seven others when he brought a flood upon the world of the ungodly.” (Extract https://www.openbible.info/topics/heresy)

“Well thought off those words and what you see here may be the follow-on of God’s wrath. He may be merciless, but he can also be without it.” Virgil then looked at the top. “See rain falls on them now.”

Yet it was not raining but hail storms that came down with the chunks of ice that lay pain on the fallen souls. The soul clamor to hide where was shelter it may be filled or there was only the mire.

“1 John 1:9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” Dante recited the words he was familiar was then.

“Yes, and yet in Corinthian 5:10; For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he has done in the body, whether good or evil.” (Extracted from https://www.openbible.info/topics/punishment_of_sins )

Dante and Virgil walked to one of the parcels of land where a dozen tombs were seen. It hovered just at their eye level. His thoughts went out to the concept of the Circle. He understands then why the guards here are the fallen angels and the Furies and Medusa, Dante thought. Medusa and the Furies are appropriate guards of this Circle because they are pagan figures, and of course, pagans do not think correctly about God. The fallen angels are also appropriate guards of this Circle that is devoted to punishing heretics because they did not think correctly about God, as they chose to fight against Him rather than fight against Lucifer. Heresy is thinking incorrectly about God; the fallen angels, the Furies, and Medusa thought incorrectly about God. Still, tombs don’t need guards, so the guards here need hardly keep a close eye on the sinners in the tombs. (Extract from https://davidbruceblog.wordpress.com/2017/01/08/dantes-inferno-canto-9-retelling/)

Dante looked to Virgil for his solace.

“Poet you were one, Dante. And so were you a Preacher but before all of this, you were a seeker of the truth in your faith. You may have seen part of it now, and you find that words could not describe the things you see. I can’t too even though I am of science; well with dabbling in theology but even what, I had seen here and before, clung onto my mind. Is this our afterlife events? And yet in the living world, all of us held some sins. Are we to be cleansed of it if we adhered to God’s words? If so, we may all be ----”

“Uncreative in our mind? Perhaps you are right, Virgil, a man of science where logic prevails. What we had viewed may to many illogical but the scene before us is not to our sight but in our mind. As many will say, to hell with it. We will just add that as another lesson to our thoughts. Let all live on for when in the Afterlife, we will step through here to Heaven…. If it ever there was one.”

“I have not been there. I came as far as here and return to Limbo.” Virgil shuddered at the thought that Hell may be endless.

“Be brave, Man of Science. With you at my side, I am sure we will get to the end of it.” Dante gave the words of courage to Virgil. “After all, we are in Hell and still smiling.”

“Shall we move then?” Dante looked at Virgil. “Are you still with me?” 

Dante Book 1 Canto IX Scene I

 Canto IX

The Furies

Scene 1

 

“Do any of those whose only punishment is deprivation of hope, ever descend, into the depths of this sad chasm, from the first circle?” Dante asked of Virgil after they had sat there pondering the next part of their journey.

“We must pass through the gates. Nothing can prevent us from doing that. After all, we have been promised help. Or …no, we will receive help, but it is taking more time than I like for help to get to us.” Virgil replied. He then looked at Dante.

“I told you I reached here, and I did go in…. rather I was offered a journey. Do you recall the witch named Erichtho from Lucan Pharsalia?” Virgil smiled.

“She was a witch that uses the body parts from the dead for her magic spells. In that she delights in otherwise heinous and macabre acts involving corpses; for instance, "when the dead are confined in a sarcophagus … then she eagerly rages every limb. She plunges her hand into the eyes, delights at digging out the congealed eyeballs, and gnaws the pallid nails on a desiccated hand." Dante recalled his readings.

“In Lucan Pharsalia, she was mentioned.” Virgil smiled. “I was into theology and myths too.”

“She was sought by Pompey’s on. Sextus Pompeius. He wanted her to perform a necromantic rife, that he might learn the outcome of the battle at Pharsalus. Erichtho complies and wanders amidst a battlefield to seek out a cadaver with "uninjured tissues of a stiffened lung". She cleans the corpse's organs and fills the body with a potion (consisting of, among other things, a mixture of warm blood, "lunar poison", and "everything that nature wickedly bears") to bring the dead body back to life. The spirit is summoned, but, at first, refuses to return to its old body. She then promptly threatens the entire universe by promising to summon "that god at whose dread name earth trembles". Immediately following this outburst, the corpse is reanimated and offers a bleak description of a civil war in the underworld, as well as a rather ambiguous then about the fate that lies in store for Pompey and his kin.^”

Sourced from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erichtho#Lucan's_Pharsalia.

“And I met her here. She gave me a task to travel to the pit of Judas at the bottom of the Inferno and bring out a spirit for her to consult. This is something she had done before. While I was still alive, she sent a soul to the bottom of the Inferno to retrieve another soul who would foretell the victor of the Battle of Pharsalia, in which the forces of Julius Caesar defeated the forces of Pompey. Because I have traveled throughout the Inferno, I well know the path that we will take and I am familiar with the place we are now. This swamp of the Styx surrounds the city of Dis, which we will enter although not — as you know — without some trouble.”

Extract from https://davidbruceblog.wordpress.com/2017/01/08/dantes-inferno-canto-9-retelling/

The shivers went up Dante’s body when he heard that but then he looked up, he saw the descending winged creatures.

“Enrinyes! They are also known as Furies! I read of them.” Dante recognized the creatures from their serpent for hair, and the blood on their body. They were said to wreak vengeance against children who killed their parents.

“I see them. They are named Megaera, Alecto, and Tisiphone in the middle.” Virgil called out.

The Furies hovered in the air, shrieking and tearing their skin with their fingernails, drawing blood. They shouted, “Come, Medusa, and turn this living man into stone. We let Theseus get away from us too easily.”

This is a threat that needs to be taken seriously, Virgil thought. Any living human being who looks at Medusa, who also has snakes for hair, will instantly be turned into stone.

Virgil told Dante, “Turn around and cover your eyes because if you see Medusa your journey is over and you will not return to the Land of the Living.”

Dante did as he was told, and Virgil also covered Dante’s eyes

Extract from https://davidbruceblog.wordpress.com/2017/01/08/dantes-inferno-canto-9-retelling/

When all was deemed to be doomed, a miracle happened.

It was a surreal sound that went above Dante and Virgil. It was so loud that it is timid even the roar of the hurricane. A hurricane in its wrath will tear through cities and all that was in its part was removed. It was God who was often viewed as the one causing such catastrophes but in the progress of learning, the hurricane was attributed to the movement of the air when warm air rose and cold air replaced it. It was a scientific solution but what caused it to be was considered as an act of God.

Such was the roar of the sound, that the perched ones on the wall wailed and fled the walls. Dante saw Virgil’s hands were removed from his eyes and he saw the soul of sinners who had earlier clamor to the surface had dove back in.

“Virgil, are we to be doomed?” Dante called out and with his ears clasped shut, he heard not the reply. He asked again with his hands dropped.

“I don’t think so. We may still see salvation. Virgil saved us.” Virgil spoke out. “Or rather Virgil 3.0 did.”

Dante looked up and saw the small orb was rotating rapidly in its ascent and it was emitting the sonar beam at a high frequency towards the furies. The furies were also leaving the wall from the sonar blasts.

“The orb had done what I could have thought of if given time on myself. It had out-thought itself here in the programs.” Virgil was elated to see his invention soaring.

“Good day, Creator. I have what you may term as ‘gave them a harrowing’ experience.” Virgil 3.0 greeted its creator. “I had heard you mentioned the Harrowing in Hell, and I did my references to it.”

“Why did you …. used the sonar beam?” Virgil asked.

“It was all I had. And what I was told or rather discreetly heard, there was a loud sound during the Harrowing of Hell, and these are intangible beings which I thought of sonar as the one weapon they may not be able to tolerate.”

“You are the despicable rebel….” Virgil laughed. “I am glad I gave you the tools to be made illogical decisions.” Virgil was elated at his invention.

“Despicable is your reference to me when I amazed you with my analytics. And in the true words of the Vulcan, illogical does not exist in my mind.” Virgil 3.0 did a series of spins in front of its creator.

“What infernal thing did you create?” Dante asked of the creator. “It displayed sarcasm.”

“Not much more than what God created in us. The ability to think for ourselves, and perform the unlikely. I am just recreating the new life into the mechanical being, but I am dead and my notes are in my mind. Alas, whatever I do will not see light. I do wish we could have clones.”

“Don’t despair for the works of clones had not yielded the required results. It was banned after the second generation. We should not …create an extension of life when life by itself is a gift to us by God.” Dante reverted to his theology self. There was the acceptance that the living could be lived on in clones but the latter proved to be defective and the clones were destroyed.

“Man has one lifetime to journey here. Its sacrileges if we are given the extension artificially.” The people were divided but the mass won were the minority wealth was not able to stop their protest. It was what Dante recalled then.

It was then when Dante saw a gate appeared on the wall. It opened wide.

“We go in,” Virgil told Dante. He then paused in his steps. “Before we go in, let me caution you that what you had seen in the other Circles, these may be more repulsive. You must…”

“I am fine, Virgil. I have learned to accept Hell.” Dante cut in.

“Clear your mind now. Go in there and see the new experiences, and offer no judgment.” Virgil told Dante. It then looked at the orb. “Return to me, Virgil 3.0. We have not completed the journey as yet.”

 

Story Write Compilations Volume 2 Stories 13

 Claus Kitchen 3

 

Author's Note: St Patrick Celebration

 

Contests rules:

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

"Happy St. Patrick’s Day!" The elves in the workshop all rang aloud as the old man walks into the place. He pauses and then looks at the group of elves.

 

"Ho,! Ho! Ho!" Santa laughed at the reminder that today is St. Patrick Day. He knows the elves like to celebrate this day just as they love to celebrate Christmas with him, but he is ever busy before and during Christmas eve. "Okay, you little miscreants. We shall the day off today and let us have a celebration"

 

"Woo....wee... He's calling it a holiday" One joyous elf jumped into the air with his hands raised high.

 

"Oh shut it down, Gimly. You jump for joy on any breaks as long as you can slip into the corner with your Vennie. Can't you all do it when we all go to bed, and be the joy you would have the whole night to joy it all." That was the jealous Minnie who was Gimly's ex but now being replaced by his latest Vennie.

 

"Oh, Minnie. Don't tell me you still thinking of the scrap with him? Why he is best to be forgotten for he is a large in the sound and small in the performance. I would sum up his sailing mast in this limerick;

 

I once sailed a boat named O'Gimly

When I should be in with another named Scally

When sailed to sea he out to best

That he can rival the Scally in the best

But he was a tad too small in the galley

 

That took on the whole workshop to roar to in heavy laugher as poor Gimly slips away into the corner by himself. But the roar brought in a bigger roar from the kitchen as Mrs. Claus came in with her roller and dough.

 

"I hear laughter from my kitchen and whose merriment is it. And how dare you deny me of such an occasion when I am the missus of the House." She did not walk in alone but she came with her troupe of pixies armed with plates of delectable dishes and sweet tidings for all to enjoy.

 

"Come, my dear. It's St Patrick Day, and I have given the elves the day off. How did you come to be so prepared for the occasion when I have not mentioned it to you?" The old man named Santa embraced his lovely wife as he watches the pixes laid the dishes on the working tables for the elves to enjoy the new offerings.

 

"Come now, my dear husband of mine. If you could remember all the dates you missed on our anniversary, how well do you think you could on St Patrick Day. Just like in the past years, it's always been me who reminded you that nothing should be amiss on these days and that includes today's celebration." She laid a kiss on his lips and then shrink away.

 

"Ho! Ho! All these years and you still feel the tickle of my beard. But you never complained when I am snorkeling in the depths." The old man has not his drink and he is already on the bend to his thoughts despite the early hours of the day.

 

"Where is Gimly? Come here, my lad. I will recite you a good limerick to raise your mast." Mrs. Claus soon was to start on these lines.

 

I once met a frigate named O'Gimly

He is told too small to the Galleon O'Scally

When taken to the speed of the race in the seas

No sloop could out beat the O'Gimly

He made sloppy of three ports before the galleon O'Scally.

 

The perk up the elf Gimly as he rejoined the party leaving four very red-faced elves standing by the side. I guess second helpings ain't the best. But soon the as the party gets underway, the mood all changed to joys and fun as the drinks get into the head.

 

No one noticed the two couples who slips away, although one of them can't be a mistake by the size of their girth; the other was a redeemed elf about to sailed into a new port with his sloop.