The MONITORS (A Fiction) Copyright 2015

PART TWELVE:

LORD of the lords (HE Who laughs last):

Heinus stretched his neck over the fly-lord's form like a reptile. Very thankful that his genotype could afford him that callisthenic vigour. His master had enlarged an image of the girl pushing through bramble and branches in a wilderness. But though it looked solitary, dangerous and hopeless to the human eye, the fly-lord could see the shimmering hosts all around her. It always irked the blazing ashes from his scorched pores, whenever he saw that scene played out. But as long as his real target did not see or know their own potency, he would keep at his winning game of; killing, stealing and destroying. No matter how many times he saw this show, It still infuriated and enraged him more than the time before. He made the image even larger that it already was and then hissed loudly. Emitting a sound so creepy, it grated on the atmosphere like chipped nail on chalk-board.

"What are we going to do about that?" Asked Heinus still stretching and peeking, howbeit with caution. His master could flare up any second, hit the smoke caked ceilings and then beat him to a pulp. "What are you going to do about what?" The fly-lord returned the question, amended and condescending. Some level of irateness evident in his voice. "I mean HE has them all over her, it feels like an unconquerable impediment." Continued the head monitor tentatively and flatly. "You and I will do what we have always done!!" Heinus squirmed slightly at the rising tone of his master's voice. The fly-lord ploughed ahead, oblivious and uncaring about any others discomfort. "The plot of course is to get her to step out of that protection you just observed. And the rest will be human history as usual." "But she would not knowingly and purposely do that." Stated the head monitor matter-of-factly. "Of course not!" Countered the fly-lord in obvious irritation. "First and foremost, she does not know who she is, what she has, what we want and how much we need her. Right now, she is just like any other girl her age. Seeking some form of normalcy and pursuing deluded childhood happiness." With that statement the master of darkness swiped with pressed force at the image. Knowing the effect that action would have in a tangible existence.

"She looks so empty, dejected and pitiful," continued Heinus. "How much of a threat could she possibly be?" His master hissed again, this time less oppressively. He was not a teacher and he had no patience whatsoever for constructive illustrations. But as a leader with an agenda, he also knew it was crucial to let his followers understand the neccessity of brutal and relentless force in their mission. "Come over here and I will show you something," commanded the fly-lord. The head monitor who had backed-up a few steps earlier when his master first hissed, stepped forward again unsteadily. As his surbodinate dragged his feet, the fly-lord beckoned again with an authoritative wave of his free hand this time. Heinus got closer in a flash. "Look here!" Commanded his master yet again, while simultaneously pulling up the image of a huge brilliant star, with gleaming and flashing colors darting around it. As the image of the star got bigger, its light shone brighter and the dark lord went from squinting to shielding his eyes. Suddenly Heinus found himself struggling to back away again, as his master scrambled to shrink and then quench the image.

After they had both caught their steamy breath and the image of the star was quenched, Heinus' master began to speak to him. This time with a slightly subdued but heavily provoked tone. "That is what we saw by gazing many, many years ago. Long before there was a chance of it coming to pass. It was huge, it was bright and more importantly it was threatening." The fly-lord paused for a couple of seconds before continuing. "A delay plot was foiled and so was a hijacking and then we resorted to an exchange of components in an attempt to dilute its potency. That too back-fired as this particular battle tetters on the verge of coming to a head." He stopped again as if weighing his next words. "Here is what I find most disturbing and infuriating. Even in its most beat-down, stripped and usurped form or state, we are still very much intimidated. You know I am not one for an optimistic forecast, neither do I promote hope and expectations. But I shudder to think of what will be its impact in its full glory....."

Heinus felt the last whiff of smoke expel from his breathing sac. This was no region of hope, faith or the expectation of the great by and by. That much he knew. But that did not stop him from feeling deflated. "So!" His master's voice jostled him back to the blazing reality. "This is why we must fight dirty, unfairly, villiainously, desperately, viciously and unceasingly with that which threatens our mode of deceptive and destructive function." "How then do we go about levelling such a mountain?" The head monitor was more alert now. "We cannot level it." Stated his master rather quickly. "So we strive to make it work with us and for us. We strive to make her ours so she can use that potency to fulfill our purposes." "Let me get this straight," Heinus was still not convinced. "HE made and equipped her for HIS purposes and you who cannot create or be creative want her for your purposes." The look on the monitor's face was incredulous. "Isn't that a bit too daring? How do you intend to execute that tug-of-war?" The monitor wanted to know.

"Simple," began the fly-lord. "Their humanity by default, aligns with our ways. They have to make a conscious and decisive choice to go against the norm, against us and to go with HIM. So 80% of the time we win without even trying." The dark lord was smirking now, nursing what appeared to be a burst of coming laughter. "They literally come in droves to us, to use discard and eventually destroy." He clapped his hands with dark glee at this last statement. "Wow!" Exclaimed Heinus. "So what are your plans for her?" "Oh quite easy," continued the dark lord triumphantly. "Start real early with some human agents of mine, implants, impostors, hypocrites, friends that are fiends indeed and so on and so forth. And then of course, some deadly traps here and there. Then we can get her to step over that ominous protection of HIS!"

Suddenly, they heard a loud and thunderous rumbling that shook the very foundations they stood on. The crypt began to quake as mirrors crashed into the walls and bricks collided into each other. Heinus felt his form rolling away with violent velocity as he desperately grabbed onto a hedge protruding from an elevated stony slab. At the inner section of the crypt, where he was with the fly-lord. Heinus could hear the other dark creatures yowling and shrieking as they darted about helplessly. And just as abruptly as the shaking had started, it stopped. There was a daunting quietness in the air. Heinus tried to get up, but could not. The stillness was as disconcerting as it was paralyzing. He did not really have life in him, but he felt like he was suffocating to death.

Then he heard the rumbling again. This time it sounded like thunder rolling in from the distance with an authoritative and majestic stride. It was a roar so captivating, it had the melodic refrain of triumphant laughter. Since Heinus was now glued to the ground, he scanned the area by moving his head. He wanted to know where his master was. He did not have to look very far. For right there in the middle of the crypt, was the fly-lord trembling. He was bowed to his knee and muttering with his tongue. The monitor never thought or imagined this sighting would be possible.

Tresspassing trips and trapped in transit:

'Shiny-shoes' rubbed her sore and bruised arm as she surveyed the deserted outskirts of her shrine. what usually buzzed with subjects and visitors seeking some type of fetish help or the other, was now a desolate waste space. Most of her subjects were still around awaiting her next move or command. But she was ready for neither at the moment. Much of any strategy she would undertake now would be mostly based on what she finds out from the pugnacious old witch. It was like pulling multiple teeth from a child, to get to the root of what had all but stalled her operation. Their last visit to the coven left her with more than hurt limbs. Her pride and confidence had taken a temporary tumble after that unforseen tussle with the older woman. Nevertheless, she was more deeply resolved than ever to get to the bottom of this assailing dilenma.

She walked over to the cave for 'seances and astral' movements. Only two of her workers were there in a place that usually swarmed with activities. They both huddled in the corner chatting. Both completely incognizant of her presence, as they whispered their conversation. She looked away from their bobbing and babbling heads, to watch the walls in renewed horror and a fleeting uncharacteristic sense of pity. The figures appeared like beautiful and expertly done murals. Faces colorfully painted yet sorrowfully etched with anguish and desperation. They were mere pictures until they began to move. Most just wriggled around within the wall's perimeters. Others, the more aggressive ones surged forward in an attempt to break through the confining walls. Walls that until a few days earlier had been a mode of transportation and transplantation for them and their duties. They were now trapped in what should have been a rapid traffic movement to a forbidden realm. Thus was the quandary that plagued the high priestess and her empire.

She walked away quickly, before the two present prattlers would see her in the state she was. Displaying a hopeless and helpless demeanor would not help her agenda at this moment. She had to stay at the top. That required not just maintaining the status quo, but eliminating any and every competition. To go ahead with that, she still needed the witch's information. She would suck in her agitation, simulate a mock truce and approach the tyrant one more time. The sooner she did, the better for her stagnating operations.

The prelude (A poignant page from the past):

The woman welcomed the boy and his family. Just like a raffle draw or lotto play, they had gotten their wishes. She proceeded to change his birth name. He was now hers technically and she would watch over him. She was his 'devil-mother' so to speak and he needed an appropriate and new name. A name that would match that of his father and his new destiny.

Fix it before it starts to break:

Ethia paced back and forth in the floor length of her living quarters. She would be damned she thought, if she would just sit back and let life unfold and collapse on her saturated head. She did not devote her days to foster darkness, only to have light blind her into destruction. She was just on the verge of her acquisition and coronation. She was on the verge of being it all and controlling it all. She would fight on with the same tools and skills she had always used. The lies, manipulations, schemes, sorcery and plain old murder. It was always the same plot, different people and a different day. She would keep thwarting and hindering good situations until her insidious goals were accomplished. She would achieve her desires, because the one she served and worshipped said so.

It was time to fix some broken edges, sew back torn seams and re-cap any telling exposures. She would start with her 'devil-son', adopted after the ritual she co-produced. Keeping this son, was far more valuable than finding the whereabouts of any blood son. Her sacrificial son's dedication to her god made him more useful over the years. But she would still have to curtail the trail that tyrant called Hanad must be leaving all over the place. And to think that he was here in the palace of all places. Serving in the midst of hundreds. She would need extreme tact to fish the young man out without raising brows. She clapped for her personal maid who was loitering behind the drapes. And when that one stepped forward head bowed, the queen mother commanded: "Get me the housekeeper immediately!"