They say you can’t stare at a demonic entity or monstrous entity, and you will be dead before drop to the group. To quote from the bible. “Men’s hearts failing them for fear, and for looking after those things which are coming on the earth:”
I haven’t asked my father if that evil bastard is seen in daytime. But what I do know, that whenever its close, disquiet and terror blooms within you. You lose sanity and strength.
And there are more than one that lurks the earth.
A hideous appearance and ravenous hunger. Hands that had skin bitten off.
When a man grows gaunt, loses all sense, and driven insane by starvation and transforms into a monstrous entity, the moment he bites off his lips and finger tips, skin on his hands and tearing chunks of skin from his torso.
From distance he looks like a man. Granted that it was once one.
Again how will things translate to modern times? I believe more of them will make an appearance. When food becomes scarce and not available, due to war and famine. I shudder to think if a woman turns into one of them. Ripping skin from her torso.
In the winter of 2015, one of them was at the edge of town. If it hadn’t turn the other way around. It’s safe to assume that we would be all dead.
A difference between a cannibal and entity that devours flesh of people. A cannibal is still a human, while entity is a demonic beast on two legs. Cannibalism is frowned upon by the elders of my culture. It shouldn’t be tolerated or celebrated.
When food is not available, men and women will resort to cannibalism. Mothers will eat their babies, brothers will eat their siblings. It’s been said that cannibalism is a form of judgment.
On my previous blog post, from what I had gathered about the entity, the beast is no Sasquatch.
The Canadian North is brutal and harsh, bush law dictates survival. With the lands occupied by monstrosities.
A being that was once a man. Few felt its presence and lived. From its terrible countenance, size and presence. You would go insane and die soon afterwards. To vanquish such a creature is to dance with death. Alone you can’t kill it, you’ll need protection and fortitude. If you’re thinking of using a high calibre weapon take out the demonic brute, you’ll fail.
Unless God Almighty had set aside and sanctified a man pure in heart, for such a task. You’ll fail. An old style medicine man or a shaman had to prepare himself. Shamans and medicine men had good sense and understood the need to vanquish the terror that devours mankind.
Its aspects are demonic and monstrous. How will translate in modern context? How will the fiend be killed? With the old style shamans and medicine men extinct or extremely rare.
The upside of modern technology lights would keep it at bay.
So basically one would have to separate the nuggets of information from bull crap. I wouldn’t trust a practitioner of voodoo; they would attempt to harness the beast or steal its power. Making things from complicated to worse.
For a man of God to kill one of them, he would have to be sanctified and strengthened by God himself. And I’m not talking about Black Hebrews, Hebrew Roots Movement, Holy Rollers, or a Catholic Priest. But an actual man of God. He would have to ply the tools of his trade and calling.
A little update, I may need to correct a few things. As my memory goes, some entities and cryptids are too damn dangerous talk about.
This is my ROW80 sunday check-in for October 24, 2016 as usual I’m late. Two days ago, my dog broke his swivel clasp and sat by the door. Waiting for me to open the door or expecting a snack.
- My writing goal is somewhat oozing along.
- Sprucing up my long handwriting aka cursive writing.
- Continuing along with my reading the passage by Justin Cronin.
- Tweeting has gone nonexistent.
I have been digging around with regard to gold and silver stackers, and how to get rid them without hemorrhaging mullah. Let me be clear, I’m not an expert in precious metals. Just offering my opinions and sporadic observations of the ongoings in a first nation town. In my region, gold and silver is useless up in a first nation reserve, we’re used to paper currency. Depending on how much gold and silver one has. It would be a nightmare to transport gold and silver from a remote community to another.
One. A remote first nation community is only accessible by plane. Two. The closest pawn shop is in Timmins, Ontario. Three. Finding a reputable gold dealer is difficult. Four. Hopping on the plane, one way to Timmins is expensive. Five, hauling gold and silver around is tedious work. Six. There are dishonest pawnshop brokers, coin dealers and gold dealers.
It’s possible to sell precious metals to a scrap dealer, but one must know where to sell and who will buy it. I will have to dig for more information on various topics including this one.
Back to the writing, sometimes going with the flow can alter one’s WIP timeline along with other things. Precious metals and various stuff seem to pop up. Anyways regarding my female character, I finally figured out which kind of flaw to give to her. World building has more layers than an onion.
I corrected several typos, one on my late friend’s memorial post and another my draft regarding bigfoot aka dude in the woods.
I opened another can of wet dog food by mistake, even though there’s all ready one sitting in the fridge.
After reading disturbing information online. I concluded not to order any dog food from WalMart. China has a reputation of being the counterfeit capital of the world. And most of the goods come from China. Fake rice, fake medication, fake gold coins, fake dried peas and so forth. For food items, I’ve figured that it’s safer to order from somewhere else and buy locally. Electronic devices and other useful items are fine.
I will order wet dog food from site called well.ca. Sped is more of the dry kibble with broth mixed in type of fellow.
I will admit that I am not good in posting a remembrance post. But then again, a memorial, a remembrance of my late dear Friend Bill Stubbs. I don’t know where to begin.
We message each other over facebook and chit chat on the phone. Topics varies, from everyday life to writing. His forte is mystery and suspense, my forte is science fiction, with other things sprinkled in.
I kept odd hours while Bill was a morning writer. Originally I had planned to invite Bill to the Writer’s Night Quills facebook group.
Even though Bill and I have different views and opinions. We agreed, and we disagreed on things. We remained good friends. Last time I chatted with him was on March 5, 2016.
Sometimes life deal us with a bad card. Over the summer, I often think about him. Hoping things would mellow out for Bill and he would be home writing. His wife/widow kept me informed regarding Bill.
Here’s to you old man, it was my honour and great privilege to be your friend, you have been a faithful friend. I will miss you.
Your best friend Barry.
My internet went down on Saturday, cutting me off from the digital world for two days. I wasn’t able to participate Saturday’s write in. With nothing to do, I continued reading, well listening to the Passage by Justine Cronin. The internet came back to life around afternoon.
The previous write in in tiny chat room was interesting. We had a Wrinkly Old Dude, Flash Gordon showing his shrivel up cigarette, and one loud black dude cussing.
This upcoming Tiny Chat write in, the room would be secure and private I think, less hassle from freaky lurkers.
I admit that I haven’t been writing for several days now, Helen one of my long FB friends is in the middle of writing a short story starting from last week, I believe.
I wrapped tarp around the dog house, to prevent more dry rot forming around his little house. I roughly added red tape around it to prevent the wind from snaking its way through the tarp. Of which I will have to remove.
The spot around his dog house is muddy due to melted snow and the sprinkle of rain, I can’t move him to another location, one, my yard is small, I always keep an eye on my dog from. my office/laundrymat.
And here’s a picture of Sped, thinking the mobile device is strange looking device or tasty treat.
I stapled the tarp down on several locations, it looks better without the red tape. I don’t want to attract bears and wolves to my dog.
This is my afternoon check-in for Wednesday October 12, 2016. I admit that I haven’t been writing as I should. But discussion and pinging ideas back and forth my writing ooze once more.
- Reading the passage by Justin Cronin is coming along nice and slow.
- Created a diverging story from my WIP it’s still in the note stage via steno book, of which the diverging tale would probably standalone or a short story. As a friend says, don’t plan too much on the story.
- Still lagging on my tweeting.
- Will continue to work on several of my original WIPs.
I was pleasantly surprised that six composition notebooks were also included with other notebooks. One edge of one notebook is a bit wrinkled, but no matter I will use it first.
I used one of my two remaining steno books which I had saved since 6 years ago. I wonder how this new diverging tale would look.
Not too many moons ago, I was told to age up the main character from 16 to 21. Ergo I aged him up to 18. As my FB friend had said, it would be considered as child porn, even though the male is 16 and the chick is 20 to 38, when they go at it. Chow for now.
Taking a selfie with my dog is difficult, trust me the dog is three years old and he will nip at me and lick me. The dog doesn’t like his picture being taken, or the mobile device is emitting radiation that my dog doesn’t like the literal vibes coming from it. After bribing Sped with milk bone biscuits, I snapped pictures of both of us. And emailed them to his wife who is now a widow. I will miss Bill’s sporadic articles. From what his wife/widow told me, Bill loved the pic of me and my dog Sped.
I dreamt that my dog jumped into a ditch, gone through ice and thin coat of snow, he went still in the water; I dragged him out of the ditch water and preformed mouth to mouth. As soon I blew into his snout, the dog got up. After waking up, I don’t know what the dream meant.
It could be something pertaining to the future or recap of what had transpired. Or it could mean that my friend had passed on is in the proverbial paradise. I don’t know what the image of Sped meant. But I dreamt that my dog had drowned in a ditch months ago. I thought little about it until now.
Ahoy there, this is my midweek check in for Wednesday October 5, 2016. I’m going off topic for a bit and will return to scheduled program. With autumn arrived a few weeks, ago, changing colour of leaves adding a nice hue to the surrounding landscape.
A few days ago, there’s a sighting of large bear at the local dump, cue Yogi the bear, without Boo-Boo. Rummaging its nose through the trash, looking to stuff itself before winter arrives. And lighter side of news, a polar bear cub was reunited with its mother, after the young cub was found close to town.
Back to writing. From previous post, I mention that I am working on several random stories. I kept a mental note of them, of which I should write them down as notes. Most likely they would be short stories and allow pieces to fall into place.
Reading the passage by Justin Cronin is progressing nicely, I haven’t reached the good stuff yet. But I’m getting there.
I will get back to my Neglected WIP before I forget about it.
- Prepare for NaNo. And NaNo is just around the corner glaring at me.
- Continue tweeting.
- Working on random stories. Possible short stories/
- Work on several my old WIP that I have neglected
- Read the passage trilogy by Justin Cronin
Truth is indeed stranger than fiction. After reading an online article about Muslim woman who had decapitated several members of ISIS after she lost family members to the fiends. If I read it right, she burned their bodies and cooked their heads. That’s one way of avenging her loss. It reminds me of a saying on how vicious and vindictive a woman would react.
Speaking of which, on my closing note, one of my female characters is vindictive and psychotic to a degree. I borrowed one of the online pictures of Emily Blunt and some other chick just to partially flesh her out.