Monday, March 2, 2026

Preys & Predator IV is here.....

I am putting up P&P IV here now. As for me, I am breaking to do works, planning and recruiting them for 2026/2027. Not easy every year, given the uncertainty of the marketplace and drones (buzzing in my head) and conflicts and what else... I will be busy....my motto to life is stay alive and busy.

I still have with me two unfinished tales: Merrlyn and Lilith (since 2024 with multiple diversions to do other writes. Perhaps it was the topic of nexus and parallel time dimensions with angels and demons, and seraphim, and who's who in the mind intertwined in the plot of ....... That was the part I have not figured out yet.), and there is the younger version of Mrs. Hudson from the Sherlock tales (since early 2025 with much more diversity in my thoughts ... whoa, sex is aplenty in that one ... I meant the write not the writ, on my pastimes... Kama Sutra outperformed here. All in limbo now, at some stages of writing... Sex is tiring at my age..... posture and... arthritis inflammation do wonders at the wrong anatomy... at the wrong moment for the wrong reasons... call it MARY'S LAY.

So, please bear with me. I will post up P&P IV in the coming days. I have told myself never to post any tale unfinished as not to presssure myself there. 

There it is......Tally Ho


Preys & Predators IV; Monster and Witches Chapter 2

 2.

 

“We are here, Sire.” The brougham came to a halt when the coachman pulled at the reins of the two horses. The brougham came with a four-wheeled enclosed carriage with a driver's box and a two-passenger compartment. They have arrived at the main gates to a huge mansion that once may have stood like an icon in the county, but given the years of neglect, it was a sad-looking structure.

The coachman then climbed off the riding bench and proceeded to open the carriage door for the passenger to disembark. The figure dressed in the dark three-piece suit and holding the top hat took the steps to exit from the carriage and then stood firm on the ground there. He was joined at his left side by a young lady dressed in the simple outfit suited for travelling.

“Do you want me to wait, sire? I could take you to the town for more suitable lodging.” The coachman looked from the passenger towards the huge derelict structure.

The huge triple-level brick structure stood erect; once its walls were painted white and windows held the flowing rich tapestries behind it, but then with the exodus of the family, the structure looked in disarray. The windows were broken in at the ground level, and the upper windows were bare of any covers. The once great entrance doorway remained, but it was battered on its surface. The left-side doors, the high glass doors, were off their hinges and left open. The immaculate garden once inlaid with flower beds was then more of an underbrush of weeds and encroaching wild plants.

“Father, are we at your home?” The young lady held onto the left hand of the man while she gazed at the mansion. “It looked abandoned.”

“Yes, my dear. This is… or was Frankenstein Mansion. It was my home and belonged to your grandfather.” Victor, then in his mid-forties, walked towards the mansion.

“Coachman, please hold.” The man named Victor Frankenstein called out to the man. “Please bring my daughter to the tavern in the village. Put her in the tavern there, the Merry Men or another if it does not exist there, and then come back for me.”

“And unload the luggage there, please. I will pay you more coins for that.” Victor reached into his coin purse and drew out the extra coins.

“As you wished, Sire.” The coachman resumed loading the luggage that he unloaded.

“Father, I want to stay.” The lady protested.

“Not now, my dear. Be nice and follow the coachman. I will join you soon.” The young lady stepped back into the carriage. The coachman also climbed on, and the carriage took off.

Victor makes his way to the main doorway of the mansion. He pushed at the door, and it gave way. He walked into the hall and eyed the huge stairway there. Once it was the mainstay of the mansion with its curved structure; adorned on the walls next to it were the huge paintings of the family members of the past generations. His father had insisted the artist draw the image based on his memory, and each of the paintings was an imposing sight of tough men of their generations. His father's portrait was not there; he had it hung at the library.

“I will not be placed next to the dead ones while I am alive.” Father had replied when asked about that. “My portrait will be in the library. When I am dead, you may hang it there with the others.”

“Why, Father?” Victor remembered asking.

“Well, I am not dead. And for being alive, I will preserve the family’s knowledge hidden in the library.” The elderly man told Victor. “Son, knowledge is the power of the family. Our knowledge may break others of their soul.”

Victor was not to understand it then, but he knew of the many guests to the mansion and met his father at the mansion. Some stayed on and moved on later, but none made any contact with the children there. They have their own meals alone from them most times. Most of the guests were mostly his officers who served with him when he was the Общий. He had not known what was spoken, and his father will not tell of it, nor do the guests. The last guest was Rudolf Spielsdorf and the lady named Lauren Spielsdorf, a lady they rescued from an accident near the creek.

“Victor, the power of knowledge is supreme to any weapon in hand.” The elderly man told the second son of his. “Your brother, William, lacks the will to acquire it, and that leaves me the two of you. Ernest, my youngest, is knowledgeable, but he is more inclined towards other subject matter. More to it, he is a ……. Cripple. And that erodes his power to the others.”

“Father, Ernest is ……” Victor had cut in to protect the youngest.

“I know my children well, Victor. Ernest held his knowledge from his mother, who died at his birth. I believed she gave her knowledge to him then, but his physical defect made him imperfect.” The elderly man stayed true to his view. “In the military, he will be a liability to the regiment. He cannot ride and battle even compared to the youngest officer. Truly. A regrettable fact,”

‘Father, I am not a ….” Victor sighed.

“A military officer? No, you are not. You are a man of… knowledge. I am told of science, of which I knew the least, but I am told the subject of science will be the power to come.” The elderly man smiled. “I do encourage your learning there, and one day, your knowledge will be awed by many.:

“Father, I do thank you for the opportunity. I shall do my best.” Victor had promised his father.

In the mansion, Victor made his way to the library and saw the interior. The painting of his father still hung there, but a dark cloth covered half the portrait. Victor walked up to the portrait and pulled off the cloth covering it. The painting is a revelation of the general in his uniform with his ceremonial sword. The sword held a bejewelled hilt with the dark red piece on the top. The portrait was marred by the strip of dark paint at the neck of the general.

Victor had hated the painting and smiled at the defecation done. He could not do it, for he feared his ‘tata,’ as he called his father.

“Who are you?” The voice was to the rear of Victor. “Leave here now, or I will shoot.”

Victor turned slowly and faced the one who spoke. He recognized the elderly man there holding the rifle levelled at Victor’s chest.

“Sven, it is me. Victor… Frankenstein.” Victor announced himself. “I am back.”

Facing Victor was the man who once served his father as butler and master of the household. When Victor left him ten years ago, Sven Ducard was a broken man who lost his adopted son, Henry, and then the Frankenstein family.

“Are you Victor? “…… Master Victor?” The elderly man in the later part of his age frowned at the sight of the other. He was dressed shabbily with the knee hight boots; a relic from this army days.

“I am. I was friends with …… Henry,” Victor replied. “We grew up together.”

When Sven heard the name Henry, memories swept his mind. His son was killed then; by whom he was unsure, but the main suspect was Victor. His finger tightened on the trigger of the rifle held in his hands. The rifle was a relic of his days from the regiment, the Beldan rifle with the single shot.

“It is me, Victor. I am back.” Victor looked at the elderly man. “I have returned home. Do you remember me now? William and ……Ernest were my brothers.”

‘Master Victor……. I am glad.” Sven lowered the rifle. “When did you ……”

“I just arrived. I told the coachman to send my luggage to the village.” Victor said.

“Village? We are more than a town now. It is more like a huge town. A city perhaps.” Sven smiled. “You have been gone far too long.”

“Indeed I am. I brought along my daughter, Mary Annabelle Frankenstein.”

“Your daughter?” Sven was stumped. “Did you and ……”

“Yes, I wedded Elizabeth, and we have a daughter.” Victor looked at the man.

“I saw Elizabeth here.” Sven looked at Victor.

“She may be. We went separate ways some years after the birth of Mary Annabelle. I do not know where she went, but now I know. Did she come here?”

“Yes, Master. She was seen here but would not step into the mansion. She stood by the gates a few times and then left.” Sven told the young master. His eyes swept the library, then in a disarray where once proud editions lined the shelves were seen on the flooring or in ashes in the fireplace.

“I tried to keep the mansion well, but I am alone. I have tried to stop the others from pillaging the place, but they kept on coming. There was not much to steal or take; the best was taken years ago soon after you left. They were sold by the ……. Ones whom they claimed on your father’s estate. I tried to block them off, but I was alone to protect what was of value.”

“Then the worst were the young ones who came here to have fun here. I had shooed them off, but I am an old man.”

“Do not despair, Sven. The past is over. We will do what is needed, like rebuild the mansion. Father left me enough to rebuild here.” Victor smiled. “That is why I returned. The mansion will once more be the home of Frankenstein.”

Victor lied then.

Preys & Predators IV; Monster and Witches Chapter 1

 1.

 

“Metaphysics of science is a branch of philosophy that uses philosophical reasoning to analyse concepts in the natural sciences, such as laws of nature, causation, and space-time. And religious beliefs.”

“Perhaps in the context, I may be disputed, but for this is my view: metaphysics has been linked to demonic or immaterial spiritual entities. Perhaps influences of it as an integral part of religious beliefs. While specifics may vary, the fundamental concept of non-physical entities—I am referring to spirits, ghosts, and if they exist, then angels and demons. These entities could interact with the physical world.”

Gasps and murmurs were heard from the audience. The speaker at the podium looked to the audience in the Uni’s main hall.

“Let God’s thunder strike at me if I agitated any of your views.”

A clash of noise reverberated in the hall when a huge volume was dropped from the table onto the floor. All eyes were on the one who caused the interference.

“I am sorry. It was accidental.” The one who dropped the volume smiled.

“Lightning is a manifestation of the weather.” One of the audience members called out. “We are safe here under the roof.”

“There we have it. Mankind’s creation had saved us, or rather myself, from God’s wrath… for now.” The speaker smiled. “However, do take care when you step out in the open.”

The audiences laughed at the statement.

“In metaphysics, there is an understanding that we are impacted by the foundational aspects of reality, such as causation, time, existence, identity, and the nature of God or the divine. It brings us to the likes of revelation, as in the Book of Revelation; this genre involves a "revelation" or "unveiling" of hidden truths about the future and the end of the current world order, often mediated by an otherworldly being, aka the demons.

“Metaphysics does profess about predicting the future … an extreme situation of an end-time event to examine fundamental truths, as a backdrop to explore ontological questions … a quiz on the subject of what may be, and the judgment forth.”

“Metaphysics through concepts; refers to the belief that reality is shaped by supernatural forces and that an imminent, cosmic showdown will culminate in the end of the world as we know it, a final judgment, and a new, transcendent reality. In my view, metaphysical meaning encompasses a profound, predetermined shift in existence brought about by forces beyond human control, often seen as a divine revelation or a fundamental change in the rules of being.”

“Revoir! The end is here.” One audience member stood up and shouted. The others joined in laughter.

“Do be seated, my esteemed friend. God will allow me to finish my talk before we get the brimstone onto us.” The speaker smiled. He shuddered then when he saw the elderly lady figure held the adoring expression at him. He had met her earlier, and over the tea session, he was introduced to the lady.

“I am Gertrude Miller, maiden name. I am a reader of your thesis on metaphysics.” The slender lady in her fifties held out her right hand to the doctor, who was invited to hold the forum on the subject there.

“I am also in the class on astrophysics.” The lady smiled. “I know it is rather late in my lifetime to be learning the subject, but I am intrigued by the cosmology and beyond.”

“I am honoured, Mevrouw. You are indeed admired for your learning attributes.” (Dutch for Madame). The doctor had shaken her hand, which she held onto firmly during their conversation.

“One is never too old, pardon my expression, to be learning.” Ms. Miller smiled while her right thumb rubbed at the knuckles of the doctor.

“However, my circle of friends’ inability to hold a discussion on the subject which you are an expert on.” Ms. Miller smiled on. “I am past the age to impress them with my gender attributes. I much prefer to be coached by an expert.”

“Me? An expert? I will not call myself that. I am, however, an ardent learner at best.” The doctor smiled while trying to pry his hand back, but she held firm. 

“Did you know that astrophysics emerged as a distinct, empirically driven scientific field, while metaphysics continued as a branch of philosophy focused on the fundamental nature of reality, with little direct overlap between the two domains?” Ms. Miller laughed. “A cohesion of the two will be impactful.”

“I am sure.” The doctor smiled.

“Oh, I am intrigued. That is why I am here today. We could explore that cohesion more.” Ms. Miller smiled. “A more detailed exploration, perhaps.”

“Yes, we should.” The doctor continued smiling and then saw the cue by the Uni’s staff for him to start his talk. He excused himself and managed to retrieve back his hand. Soon, he was at the podium to deliver his findings to the gathered. He took in the gathered audience and introduced the subject of metaphysics.

“In conclusion, metaphysical science as a discipline encompasses a wide range of topics like astrology, karma, and spiritual healing, with a focus on personal development, consciousness, and spiritual truth.” The speaker averted his stare to the others. He was applauded by them, and then there was an interruption by one of the audience members.

“Surely, it has nothing to do with religion. I find your topic speculative, especially on the matter of apocalyptic.” A member of the audience dressed conservatively interjected. “I am a skeptic of the idea. For myself, these claims are seen as untestable, unverifiable, and often meaningless. Your findings are …… Well, you deal with concepts beyond the physical world.”

The others there murmured their irritation at the interference.

“Claude Menier, if you are not keen to listen, then leave the hall now.” The ardent supporter of the subject matter voiced out. It was the lady named Ms. Miller who spoke.

“I am here to listen to Doctor Helsing. Pray let us have our hour with him in peace.”

“Hold your prayers in the chapel, Ms. Miller.” The one named Claude Menier glared at the lady. “This is the establishment of learning where everyone can lay their views on the matter in discussion.”

“Members of the audience. May I bring back your focus on my subject, please?” Doctor Abraham Helsing, a renowned academic on the subject, held up his arms.

“May I address your query, dear Sir? I accept the views of critics who argued that metaphysical statements often fail the standard of falsifiability, meaning ……. We cannot prove it… It is theoretically debated by many, but we were also never proven wrong… entirely, though some may have said we rely on flawed methods of abstract reasoning or are based on questionable assumptions.”

“I may argue that God’s existence was based on those arguments too.” That tone of contempt drew gasps from the audience, most notably the elderly ones. The younger audience, however, clapped their approval on that.

“However, metaphysics, well… seeks to understand reality through logical reasoning and often incorporates scientific findings, while religion typically relies on faith, revelation, and tradition to explore spiritual truths. Both can overlap, as religious beliefs often contain metaphysical assumptions, and scientific inquiry can be influenced by metaphysical ideas. With that, I will end my presentation.” Doctor Helsing concluded the talk.

“Thank you, Doctor Helsing.” The moderator stepped up to the podium, while two aides escorted the doctor to the rear exit, avoiding the crowd approaching him. He swiftly took his steps towards the office of the Dean. It was not his first quick exit strategy, for he seems to draw the attention at other venues too.

“Oh, Doctor Helsing.” Ms. Miller rushed at him and hugged him in the corridor. “Menier Claude is a brute.”

The doctor was startled by her action, and one of the aides managed to pry her off the doctor. He apologized to the lady and took to his sanctuary at the Dean’s office.

“You do take the narrow ledge at the cliff.” The dean soon arrived at the office. “I had to placate some of them profusely there. Menier Claude is a visiting associate on theology from the Hamburg Uni’s.”

“The discovery of learning is best done at the narrow ledge. Do I get across or fall in the abyss…? Well, if I do, then I may learn a new experience.” Doctor Helsing smiled. “Pardon me. I needed a drink and took the liberty of your fine whiskey. Brandy is in low supply now in Europe.”

It was during then when the French brandy industry was devastated by the phylloxera pest that ruined much of the grape crop; as a result, whisky became the primary liquor in many markets. The whiskey was the next available, then.

“Too much of anything is bad, but too much good whiskey is barely enough.” The dean poured himself a glass. The doctor raised the glass that he had poured a generous amount into then.

“To Metaphysics.” Both men cheered.

“Whiskey… you may be aware of this as the Dean of Medical History. Whisky was revered for its supposed medicinal properties. It was believed to cure various ailments, prolong life, and even repel malevolent spirits. Tales of its potency spread, with some households keeping a bottle as both a remedy and a protective talisman.

“I will attest to that.” The dean laughed. Both men finished their drink, and then the guest took his leave of the Dean’s office but he stopped at the doorway.

“Dean, I am …… I did take the liberty of exploring the Uni’s ground. I am fascinated by the Menhirs that you had lined up like a circle in the yard outside the Science Centre.” The doctor smiled. “A unique design……. Was it to rival Stonehenge there?”

“Metaphysically referred, Stonehenge is not linked to the art creation there.” The Dean smiled. “However, Stonehenge myths ……. frequently attribute the monument's creation to magical or supernatural forces.”

“By the fabled Merlin; a witch or wizard you may framed him.” The doctor smiled. “The legend says he transported the stones from Ireland. Or was it the giants that built the structure?”

“Devil may had created the ……. The Heel Stone as it was called.” The Dean laughed. “Devilish there, like our Archilles Heel.” 

“That’s witchery talk, dear Sir.” The doctor laughed. “But I must be on my way now.”

The dean watched the figure walk the corridor to the open yard of the University, and from there, he will reach the eastern gate of the university, missing the Menhirs mentioned.

“May God invoke his wrath upon you. Or the Devil takes your soul.” The Dean was still looking at the man who was taking great strides across the Uni’s ground. “Doctor Abraham Helsing, you are truly in the right place at the wrong time. Make your journey here on the narrow ledge abode well, Doctor.”

The doctor was a man of medium height and slender build, with his shoulders set back over a broad, deep chest. He held the poise of great thoughts and power. The face was clean-shaven’ displaying the square chin, with the thick sideburns that reached down his cheeks, complementing the receding hairline at the forehead of reddish hair that was swept to the rear. He reached for the piece of paper that was slipped into his left jacket pocket. He looked at it and smiled.

“12 Stoner Street. One hour.”

Cohesion, indeed.

The doctor smiled. He was not particular on his choices of lady by age, but the major attributes of physical beauty do matter. Arguably, he may lack in the specifics of vitality, but the whiskey does its task to bring the vitality back to the body. With it, he felt as if he was in his teens; age fifteen was his emergence then.

 

 

Preys & Predators IV; Monster and Witches; The Conflict

 

Prey and Predators IV

 

Monster and Witches

The Conflict

By Jimmy Loong

November 27th 2025

 

 

November 27th

God knows when I will get this tale done, but the first words will be written.

Where did I leave last in the tale?

 

The notable characters of the last tale.

Chief Constable Lestrade and Watson

Lieutenant Sharp was my version of Lieutenant Sharpe from the Sharpe series.

 

Where was myself last at the tale?

Mary, the creation, is ‘alive.’

Sven Ducard, as revealed last, still harbours revenge for the death of Henry. He is the distraught father who blames Victor for the death of his ‘son’.

The Theology Society lost their founding member and may not rest there.

What about the girls who died there? Mere pranks or forming a new coven?

Beelzebub, the uh-huh factor mentioned in the passages, resurfaced in the end there. Why? Questions that needed to be answered.

The mansions of Frankenstein and Carmilla: are there secrets there in that mansion?

And of course, Victor Frankenstein, creator, and son. Well, he is now with Elizabeth and expecting their first child.

Elizabeth Muriel, aka Mrs. Frankenstein, was deemed insane, or maybe not…. Possessed (hint…hint….), demented ……

December 27th 2025.

At 19K words now, and Mary had surfaced.

January 5th 2026

Happy New Year…. Exhausted ……

January 9th 2026

At 32K words and still no sex in the tale…. I must be really exhausted.

January 27th 2026

The sex arrived…… shallow effort though. At 42K words now, and the pace picked up. I am not pushing it for two reasons; I need my eyes to fully recover after my ops, and the other is ……. Or was plateauing then the tale, and last week, it perked but not peaked; creativity took a vacation.

Well, hopefully before the end of Jan it will be done.

30th Jan 2026

I am swimming against the tide here. I hit the threshold at 50,978 words, and had some works to do, and my mind was blank for a while on the tale, but now back. I had been wrapping up the origins, the relationship of the past, and new twists to the tale. 

5th Feb 2026

Sizzling away here at 59,220 words. I felt that I have my rhythms here now. I am wrapping up the tale and as usual it grew on the words. I have to say, Mary the creation has not got real mention in this sequel, and Beelzebub is way missing at the words. Maybe another sequel???? I have some tracks that this tale may take on, but let me get other works working too.

Feb 9th 2026

Done at 67980 words.

 

Preys & Predator IV is here.....

I am putting up P&P IV here now. As for me, I am breaking to do works, planning and recruiting them for 2026/2027. Not easy every year, ...