Wednesday, 26 October 2011

THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS WITCHES ??




















1


THERE’S NO SUCH THING AS WITCHES??


Do you believe in Witches?

I know a lot of folks don’t, all that hocus pocus Hubble Bubble Toil and Trouble rubbish. But there must be something in all those tales about the so called daughters of Satan over the centuries, surely?

Well for all those cynics and sceptics among you out there, here’s a little tale about something that happened a long time ago. 

Two hundred years ago to be exact and whether you choose to believe in Witches or the craft they practise or not, at least have an open mind whilst I regale you with this tale.

*****

Somewhere in the south of England lies a little village called Blossom. Aptly named since every spring time the multitude of Apple trees that populate this village sprout in an explosion of little pink flowers.

Every autumn however the trees bear fruit and it’s at this time of year where we start the tale.

This was the year of our lord 1813 and the little village of Blossom went about its business much the same as any other day.

One single street ran through the village and encompassed eleven houses. Ten of the eleven detached houses faced each other, the end and eleventh house lay further away and was a little larger than the other ten.

The block of ten housed ordinary families who’s tenants were employed by the local Squire. 

Squire Lawton owned most of the land Blossom was built on including the ten tenanted houses and as a result the occupants of the ten houses were employed by the Squire and were required to work on the Squire’s nearby estate.

You noticed I said “ten” of the houses instead of the whole eleven?

We'll Squire Lawton had 'tried' to acquire the eleventh house but apparently on every occasion he’d tried to do so, strange things started to happen! 

Like for instance the solicitor employed by the squire to mitigate in the legal side of things just happened to drop dead, with a malady no physician could possibly explain.

The Squire once tried another track, one that involved sending someone to the house to persuade the occupant into selling up, Lawton “had” offered a reasonable price.

The messenger, shortly after returning became suddenly mentally unstable and was subsequently admitted to the nearest lunatic asylum.

His Lordship even tried to use force, though with most of the local militia involved with British forces fighting Old Boney, the Squire had resorted to rallying the folks up who were in his employ. 

However and even with the threat of eviction and dismissal, the good folk of Blossom solemnly declared they were having “nothing” to do with the house at the end of Orchard row.

With there being only ten houses on Orchard row all the local children knew one another and most of the kids that lived on Orchard row were usually found all playing in the surrounding apple trees or playing tag in around the street itself. 

In those days of course there were no such thing as automobiles so the street was a fairly safe place to enjoy, as a child I mean.

One kid in particular though didn’t associate himself with the other kids. 

Samuel Jenkins was I suppose considered a bit of a loner and as such would usually keep his distance from the other Orchard row kids.

On this particular day, 31st October 1813, something happened to Samuel that would change his life forever.

Sam as usual had wandered off on his own and was just in the progress of taking aim at a large tin can with his trusty slingshot when he heard a strange sound.

Jumping back out from behind the tree where he was hidden, Sam cocked an ear and again heard the same strange sound, it sounded like a cat meowing.

Sam intently listened again for the meowing and then following the sound, traced back about one hundred yards toward a large old oak tree.

The meowing was a lot clearer now and seemingly more urgent, looking up into the huge ancient branches Sam spotted the source of the meowing.

There, looking down at him was a very large Black Cat. 

In fact Sam hadn’t ever remembered seeing a cat as large and as Black as the one that was now staring down at him.

“Well Well Well Mr Puss,” said Sam craning his neck and looking up at the obviously distressed Cat, “seems you’ve got yourself in a spot of bother doesn’t it?”

The Black Cat meowed once and Sam had to wonder even at that stage if the Cat knew what he was actually saying.

Sam tried to think what to do, he couldn’t reach the Cat with anything from where he was, it was too far up, he could go for help, but his father was up at the estate working for the Squire and the other kids weren’t too friendly so he couldn’t go there either.

Wracking his brains Sam suddenly came up with a solution. Pointing up at the large Cat he shouted for it to stay where it was and wait for him to come back.

Sam had remembered seeing a large ladder propped up against one of the many Apple trees on his way into the forest and with it being just after harvest time, the ladder hadn’t yet been removed so was still left in place.

Fifteen minutes later, Sam after having dragged the large ladder along the ground then proceeded to hoist said ladder against the huge oak tree.

Amazingly all this time, the large Black Puss hadn’t made a single sound, indeed it had stretched itself out along the long branch it was on and was now watching the proceedings below.

Sam tried at first to encourage the Cat to come down on its own, firstly by getting the ladder as close as possible to it then gently rocking the ladder against the trunk of the tree. 

No go, the Cat just seemed to be totally disinterested and continued to wait and see what his would be rescuer would do next.

Sighing heavily, Sam concluded that the only course to take would be to ascend the ladder and retrieve Mr Puss that way.

Just as Sam had nearly reached the summit and was within almost arms reach of the branch, the most incredible thing happened.

The large Black Cat suddenly got up, yawned, stretched itself and then almost without even giving Sam a second look, Mr Puss suddenly launched himself down at the main trunk of the huge oak.

An incredulous Sam watched as the Cat, having attached itself to the bark of the tree then somehow swung itself around so it was now in a similar position to the one Sam was though he was on ladders and not affixed to the trunk of an oak tree.

As if that wasn’t incredible enough, a goggle eyed Sam watched as the large Cat descended down the trunk, using its claws as a sort of brake.

There was a soft thump as the big Cat landed at the bottom of the tree and then amazingly just sat down and looked upwards toward Sam as if to say what are you doing up there, I’m here?

Sam stayed affixed to the ladders for a little while, he was still trying to comprehend what he’d just seen. 
Slowly gathering his senses, Sam headed back down the ladders and toward the large Black Cat.

Just as Sam’s feet left the last rung of the ladder, Mr Puss stood up and with his tail flicking in an almost imperious way and glancing over its shoulder, the big Black Cat trooped off and into the forest.

A disbelieving Sam had already figured out that the big Moggie wanted him to follow it so follow it he did and it wasn’t until a little while later that Sam realised where they were going. 

Sam balked when he understood that the house now directly in front of them was “the house.”

The eleventh house, or more commonly known as the house at the end of the lane. Some whispered that a Witch lived here, or that the house was cursed, well whatever it was, Sam didn’t really want to go any further.

The Cat then did something even more bizarre than it had at the tree. 

Strutting back toward Sam, the big Cat stared directly up at him and meowed again, walking away a little bit the Cat paused and then meowed again.

Sighing again and with hands on hips, a disbelieving Sam said, “you want me to come into the house with you Mr Puss?”

The big Black Cat then meowing again proceeded to head up the garden path and nearer toward what appeared to be an “open” front door.

Still not sure, a hesitant Sam waited where he was for a few more moments. Suddenly Sam heard his new friend meowing again though this time it sounded more urgent then even when at the tree.

Instinctively rushing toward the door, Sam hadn’t actually realised he’d stepped into the house, that was until the front door slammed shut behind him and he heard a low throaty cackling sound coming from behind him.

“Gotcha!!”

Poor Sam was terrified, where the blazes had "she" come from?

“She” was a little old lady, dressed entirely in a black cloak, who was now moving steadily toward an absolutely petrified Sam Jenkins.

“who, who are you,” stuttered Sam?

The little old lady paused for a moment and then moving a little closer toward Sam she said. “Why, I’m the Witch, the evil old Witch that lives at the end of the lane boy, but surely you knew that anyway?”

Still out his mind with fear, Sam answered the black cloaked woman. “I err, I don’t believe in Witches, in fact Mother told me there’s no such thing.”

The black cloaked woman now stopped, cackled even louder, then after a few more moments, she edged over and closer toward Sam.

“Is that a fact boy,” the old woman lifted a gnarled old hand up toward Sam and said. “You shouldn’t always believe in what people tell you young man, in fact if I were to prove to you I actually 'am' a Witch would you do ME a favour in return?”

Without even thinking Sam nodded in reply, “are you certain?” Said the old woman, now only a matter of inches away from poor Sam’s face.

Sam nodded again, though if he’d known then what he was about to find out he surely wouldn’t have.

Backing off a little now, the old crone began to utter some strange words and then suddenly, there was a *FLASH* followed by a *BANG* and poor Sam nearly jumped out of his skin.! Whipping back the cloak from her head Sam Jenkins saw something that surely no human was ever meant to see.

Though the body was obviously of an old woman, the head was the head of a large Black Cat, the same Cat Sam had followed into the house! The head of the Cat now spoke, it was the voice of the old crone.

“Now do you believe in Witches young Samuel Jenkins?“ And the last thing Sam saw before he fainted was the huge Cat’s head cackling like a lunatic.

Sam awoke, he was still in the Witch’s house and the old crone was seated in an antique rocking chair just a few feet away from him.

She appeared to have changed back into human form, though Sam couldn’t really tell for sure, not whilst she or it was still wrapped inside that black cloak.

The rocking chair creaked and the old crone spoke. “Now I have kept my part of the bargain you must keep yours.”

Sam tried his best to jump up and run, but he couldn’t, it was as if some invisible bond had kept him secured and try as he might, Sam Jenkins was a prisoner of the whatever the heck it was in the rocking chair.

As if reading his mind the old crone spoke again, “you can only leave when I let you leave Sam, now listen carefully whilst I tell you what you need to do to keep your end of the bargain.

Tonight is All Hallows Eve and to appease my Master I have to sacrifice Seven Innocents,” at this point the chair creaked again as the old crone leaned over, “there are eight children live in this village including you Sam.”

She paused a second and then continued on, “bring the other Seven to me Sam, bring them here this night, this Samhain, this All Hallows Eve, bring the Seven Innocents to me and I will spare thee, dost thou understand Samuel Jenkins?”

Even though only 13 years old, Sam understood everything the old woman said and even if it meant agreeing to what it was she were proposing.

Suddenly Sam realised he could now move and the rocking chair creaked again as the old crone waved a craggy old arm toward the front door.

“Go young Samuel go do my bidding and remember,” at this point the cloaked woman leaned uncomfortably nearer to a still terrified Sam and again whispered. 

“Don’t think you can trick me young Sam Jenkins, don’t think you’ll be safe if you dare tell of “our” little arrangement.”

Pausing a little the old woman carried on “and just in case you have any ideas about crossing me young man, before you go, take a look at my little collection on the mantelpiece.”

Sam now standing, followed the old crone’s outstretched hand and though he really didn’t want to, Sam cautiously headed toward the mantelpiece that was situated directly above a huge open fireplace.

Sam didn’t notice them at first, but there seemed to be a set of small figurines, roughly about two inches in height. 

As Sam got closer he realised there were a dozen or so of these figurines and they appeared to be of people, dressed in all different kinds of garment.

For instance there was a farmer, holding a pitchfork over his shoulder, a soldier, holding a musket and as if he was standing to attention. 

There were others too, even what appeared to a female, dressed in the daintiest ballerina outfit and standing tippy toed, as delicate as a flower petal.

Sam could hear the old crone softly cackling behind him now and she suggested he take a closer look.

Sam went cold and he let out a small yelp, a bit like a puppy when it’s been accidentally trodden on, turning around now to face the old woman Sam cried.
“Are they,”

“Alive? Of course” and the old crone cackled again, “so you see what happens when someone crosses me young master Sam?”

Sam was out of his mind with fear and desperately wanted to leave that place and now! 

He got his wish, the front door flew open and Sam bolted through it, as fast a musket shot and that horrible cackling sound accompanied him with these words ringing in his ears. “Remember, there must be Seven, or you will pay young Master Samuel, oh “you will pay.”

Even though Sam was running for his life he still found time to glance back over his right shoulder and there, sitting on top of the gatepost of the end house was a large black Cat!

Samuel Jenkins hurtled into the house where he lived and dove under the first bed he could find and stayed there sobbing for what must have been a least an hour.

Slowly recovering, Sam finally ventured out just as his Mother and Father came walking through the front door.

Elisabeth Jenkins stared at her young son and asked what was the matter and even though he wasn’t supposed to, young Sam blurted out everything what had happened in the forest with the big Black Cat as well of course the strange goings on in the old woman’s cottage at the end of the lane.

Both Elisabeth and Samuel Senior just laughed it all off and gently scolded young Sam for having an over active imagination, though after young Sam had disappeared to wash his hands for supper, both Elisabeth and Sam senior exchanged rather worried looks with each other.

Sam having combed his thick black mop of hair and dressed as he always did for supper, in his best white breeches and brown leather jerkin, sat at the table with both his parents and as always thanked the Lord for what they were about to receive.

It goes without saying that on 'that' particular occasion the Lords prayer got said with a lot more gusto than normal by young Sam and he also made another prayer that night before he went to bed and “that” one was for his soul.

Just before young Master Sam closed his eyes to sleep on that night of All Hallows Eve in the year of our Lord eighteen hundred and thirteen, a large Black Cat, silently and stealthily crept toward The Jenkins front gate, sat down and waited.

********

Two hundred years later, 31st October 2013


A large bulldozer crashed through the clearing and proceeded to move yet another huge pile of dead tree trunks.

Both occupants were employed by the Forestry Commission and both Bill Bateman and Jack Harper wanted to get this particular job out of the way as quickly as possible, there was a couple of pints in the local pub up the road with “both” their names on them.

Jack was suddenly tapped by his colleague Bill on the shoulder and he beckoned him to stop the Dozer. 

Jumping out of the cab Bill walked toward a thick clump of undergrowth directly in front of the Dozer's path and crouched down on one knee.

Turning around again to Jack, Bill made a slashing motion across his throat meaning switch the Dozer off completely.

Though not very happy, Jack complied and duly switched off the big diesel engine. 

“I hope this is worth it Bill, because there’s a pint waiting for me and you know what I’m like so near to drinking time.”

Even though it was still light, just about, Bill Bateman shone a high powered lamp into the dense undergrowth in front of them.

“Well well well, cried an incredulous Bill, “I bloody thought there was?”

“What is it,” muttered Jack who had now accompanied his colleague in the same crouching position.

“Here,” said Bill and handed Jack the lamp.

“Oh my God, cried Jack, “it’s a bloody house, well why's nobody at head office said anything about this this then?”

“Don’t know," answered Bill, “but we’ll have stop doing what we’re doing right away and report it in.” 

As Bill began to pull his mobile phone out of his high visibility jacket, Jack stopped him, “hang on a minute,” said Jack with a twinkle in his eye. 

“Wouldn’t do any harm to have a quick look see before the head office boys come stomping around all over the bleeding shop would it?”

“You’ve changed your sodding tune, laughed Bill Bateman, “what happened to beer lust?”

Jack laughingly answered by saying, “the pint can wait and anyway, that house has been there a bloody long time” and winking at this point Jack said, “you just never know what might be in there eh?”

About an hour later and a little help with some surgical precision work by the Dozer, both Bill Bateman ad Jack Harper had managed to clear a way in and were now standing inside the old house.

Bill shone his light all around the main area of the house and after a few moments spoke to his workmate Jack.

“Who do you think lived here then?”

“No idea,” answered Jack who was now starting to do a bit of exploring. 

Bill shone his light at the rather low ceiling and then down toward another door probably leading off into a scullery when he shouted Jack again.

“Have you noticed something?” Said Bill and after getting Jack’s attention he shone the light around in a three hundred degree arching fashion. “See,” said Bill staring directly at Jack.

“See what,” answered a somewhat puzzled looking Jack.

Bill pointed at the ceiling with the beam of the flashlight , then at all the ancient old wooden furniture and said, “no cobwebs,” I mean,” continued Bill,” how old is this house and how long as it been buried under all this undergrowth?”

“Oh yea,” mumbled Jack, “yes you’d think there’d be at least “some” dirt.” 

At that point Jack wandered over to a very large fireplace and wiping his fingers along the top said, “Nothing, no dirt at all, well how bleeding strange is that, the place should be covered in dust?”

Bill shone the flashlight into the open fireplace now and nearly dropping the flashlight he cried, Jesus look at that!”

Both men stared into the fireplace and there, sat directly in the middle was what looked like a huge metal pot, 

“it looks like a bleedin Witches cauldron,” laughed Jack Harper, Bill Bateman wasn’t laughing though, there was something decidedly not right about this place.

It was Jack’s turn to shout now and he motioned Bill to join him directly in front of the large mantelpiece above the fireplace.

“Point the light there, said Jack and Bill Bateman duly obliged whilst Jack reached out toward the mantelpiece.

Standing in a row were a set of what looked like small figurines and they were all different, as in one was some sort of farmer, another a soldier and even a little ballerina.

“Wonder how much these are worth," muttered Jack and he reached forward to show Bill one.

The two inches in length small figurine lay in Jack's hand and Bill Bateman shone the light directly onto it.

The figurine appeared to be some kind of boy and he had a mop of jet black hair and was dressed in a brown waistcoat with white breeches.

“Look at that detail,” whispered Jack, “it’s almost lifelike” and as Bill moved the light closer to the little boy figurine’s face, they both noticed it’s mouth seemed to be set in a twisted sort of scream.

Just as both men were intently studying the boys face something incredible happened, the figurine’s eyes blinked open and shut! “Jesus Christ,” both men screamed and Jack dropped the figurine to the floor of the house.

Both men had already decided that this particular endeavour had gone too far, but just as they were both about to exit the front door, they both froze in their tracks, there, sitting on a mat directly in front of them was a huge Black Cat!!

“Where the bloody hell did that Cat come from?” shouted Jack Harper.

“No idea,” replied a now terrified Bill and just as both men were about to shoo the big Cat away from the door they heard the sound of laughing!

Swiftly turning around and shining the flashlight around the cottage they then heard a voice.

Both terrified men spun back toward the door and there, this time instead of a big Black Cat was what looked like a little old woman dressed from head to toe in a jet black cloak.

“May I ask you two gentlemen a question?”

Both Bill Bateman and Jack Harper answered exactly at the same time, 

“What‘s that?”

There was a short pause, then the small bent figure in the black cloak spoke. “Do you believe in Witches?”

Both men just stared at the old whatever it was in front of them and then Bill Bateman answered.

“Why, everyone knows “there’s no such thing as Witches.”

The old crone threw off her cloak and finally revealed herself to a disbelieving and horrified Jack Harper and Bill Bateman.

Cackling like something straight from the pit of hell itself the old Witch replied.
“Really? Well we’ll soon see about that won’t we gentlemen? He he he he he he he he he he he he he he”



THE END

Sunday, 25 September 2011

THE EAR PEOPLE


















THE EAR PEOPLE


There is a saying that if you believe in something so badly, one day it will in fact come true. HG WELLS

Greg Smith stared almost hypnotically at the TV whilst slowly masticating on a piece of toast.

A grim faced newscaster was just putting the finishing touches to yet another item of calamity and mayhem! 

In this case a deranged father of four who suddenly decided on himself that not only “his” end were nigh, but the rest of his family too.

Apparently this particular person and in a rather bizarre fashion had taken the family for a trip out to a nearby beauty spot.

The problem was, this beauty spot was next to a cliff, of which there were a 500 ft drop to the sea below!!

According to the grim faced news reporter, questions were still being asked as to why this poor family drove toward the cliff edge at high speed, consequently plunging to their deaths 500 ft to the bottom.

Greg waited for the next item of dread, there usually was, I mean “good news” isn’t in fashion anymore is it?

This time it was a deranged postman in Clapham London. 

On one particular morning, Roger Jennings decided letters weren’t going to be the only items he would deliver that day.

Knocking on several doors and on the opening of said doors, Roger produced a semi automatic Heckler & Koch!!

Calmly and methodically, Roger murdered 10 residents of Montague road that morning with a single shot to the head, that is before armed police arrived and shot Roger Jennings in the head too.

The news reporter also said that this was now the seventh case of a similar nature and all in the space of a week.

By this time Greg had finished his toast and as he began to slurp on a low fat Mocha, the news reporter had something else to say..

“Police are mystified as to why nearly all these deaths have one thing in common!
It appears to be believed, even at this early stage that the reason these people had taken life was because of madness!!”

“Well Da,” uttered Greg as he made for the TV remote.

“You know why they killed those people don’t you?”

Greg spun around. “Mum, will you please not sneak up on me like that, you know how nervous I get.”

Mrs Smith [Irene] burst out laughing, “don’t be so bloody soft, no really, wanna know what I think?”

Greg looked at his mum and though Greg loved his mum more than life itself, he did wonder about her sometimes.

In fact Greg sincerely believed that Mum had never gotten over the death of his father and of course her husband Frank and put down her odd behaviour to that fact.

Greg gave his Mum a knowing smile, wiped his mouth, took one last swig of coffee and prepared to set off for work.

Irene Smith thumbed at the now off TV, “well don’t you want “my” expert opinion hunny?”

Greg smiled again and politely said, “Mum, I really don’t have time for this, they were all nuts, that’s what people are when they kill, maim, whatever, they’re stark staring bloody bonkers and that’s the end of it.”

“But why son?”

Greg stopped momentarily as he were about to head out the front door and his car.
Greg turning to look at his Mum asked what she meant by “why.”

Mrs Smith had a very straight face now and walking slowly toward her son and with a crooked finger, gestured for Greg to come to her.

Greg sighed, “Mum I’m really not in the mood for games, got a load of stuff to get through today.”

Irene still beckoned Greg to come to her, Greg finally gave in and walked toward his Mother.

As Greg got close, Irene Smith leaned over and whispered two words into Greg’s left ear .

Greg stepped back and said, “Mum, what are you talking about, that’s just a bloody fairy tale, I stopped believing in fairy tales 20 years ago.”

Mrs Smith didn’t say anything and this was always the bit that worried Greg, when ever he questioned her on anything, or disagreed on a point of view, Irene would just simply clam up and stare into space..

“Mum,” said Greg, now in a lot more gentler tone of voice, “Mum, we’ve been through this, you have to let Dad go, he died that way because he wanted to and there’s nothing “you,” or I can do about that now.”

Again gently, taking a hold of his Mum’s left hand and looking directly into his Mother’s eyes Greg spoke again.

“Mum, you have to stop believing in stuff like this, there’s no proof, its all just a myth, Dad took his own life for whatever reason and you really have to stop beating yourself up over this. Promise me, please, no more mention of those bloody EAR PEOPLE.”

Irene looked lovingly back at her son, “OK, I promise.”

Greg smiled, let go of his Mum’s hand and headed for the door, “only if you promise me something too,” shouted Irene.

Greg froze in his tracks, slowly turning around to face his Mum Greg asked “what?”

Irene smiled this time and again walking toward her son she said.

“All I want you to do is at least take a look, do a bit of research, you’re a Librarian, so it shouldn’t be “too” hard?
Please son and I promise I won’t mention those little guys again.”

Irene and somewhat disturbingly, chuckled when she said those words.

Greg frowned at first, but he loved his Mum and if it helped to just once and for all get rid of the notion there were tiny beings living inside peoples heads then so be it..

At that point Greg went to work and Mrs Irene Smith went to clean the house, feather duster in one hand, vacuum cleaner in the other, singing “whistle while you work” whilst she did so..

*******

Metropolitan Police pathology unit, New Scotland Yard

Sarah Parker gently almost gingerly extracted a long piece of tissue from the open chest cavity using a pair of metal tweezers.

Placing the tissue under a microscope she peered into an eyepiece, glancing back at the large white male who had once been a postman, Sarah couldn’t help wondering what had prompted someone to suddenly take a gun to work and indiscriminately kill in cold blood?

However, Sarah wasn’t a Police psychologist, she was a forensic scientist and her job was to figure out how someone died and not why.

She knew of course knew in this case it had been her colleagues using lethal force that had taken this mans life, but it still fascinated Sarah as to why “he“ killed too. Sarah carefully turned the deceased’s head to one side.

Talking into a small microphone attached to a digital recorder hanging from her neck, Sarah Parker went through the same motions for probably the hundredth time.

“Entry wound to the front cerebrum, cranial exit wound shattering brain pan and causing extensive cranial damage.”

Pausing and again tilting the unfortunate Roger Jennings’s head she spoke again.

“Some damage caused to the right ear of the deceased, undetermined whether caused by ballistics or otherwise at this time, will investigate further.”

Sarah, upon placing on her head eye protectors then picked up a nearby electric bone saw, “OK Mister, trust me, you won’t feel a bloody thing.”

Sarah smiled almost demoniacally as she said those words, even Police forensic scientists had a wicked sense of humour.

The ear came off as easy as a hot knife through butter, Sarah then began to cut into what you and I would know more familiarly as the ear drum, it was at this point Sarah Parker saw something she wasn’t supposed to!!

*******

Greg pressed the alarm activate on the black Nissan Micra, then headed off up the steps and into work.

Clapham Municipal public library, though originally built in the 70s, had just received a two million pound facelift, so everything was all once again brand spanking new not to mention shiny.

Greg entered his office, threw an attaché case onto a nearby chair and pressed a series of buttons on the desk phone ..

Checking for messages, the machine systematically bleeped in between each one and though nearly all of them were work related, the last one wasn’t.

*Beep* “Don’t forget son, a promise is a promise and I brought you up to know better than never to break a promise, have a lovely day darling, oh and don’t forget your five a day, they’re in your bag.” *beep*

Greg stared back at the desk phone in disbelief.

Shaking his head and looking at the case on the chair, Greg decided to get this particular chore over once and for all..

Though he loved his Mum very dearly, Greg was beginning to get tired of these constant references to strange mythical creatures that were somehow able to invade the mind and make it do crazy things.

Greg pressed another button and spoke.

“Oh sorry to bother you Miss Appleby, but could you pop down into reference and dig out what you can on mythological beings and demons, grab what you can.”

Miss Appleby must have asked why, because Greg began to fidget a little, rather uncomfortably it has to be said.

After pressing the button again Greg muttered that he hoped Miss Appleby didn’t think Greg believed in such things himself, perish the thought.

30 minutes later and after cancelling an appointment, Greg now hunkered down into trying to glean as much information as he could and once and for all dispel any such madcap theories as to why fairy stories would be deemed relevant to Mrs Smith.

Greg soon found what he were looking for…

****

[No one knows where the Ear People come from, they just arrived!!

From the beginning of time? Or when madness was probably first prescribed by ancient physicians as a form of mental illness? Who knows?

Various names and titles have been used to describe these dangerous and somewhat demonic beasts throughout the centuries.

“Ear lizards,” “Mind Monsters,” “Devil Mites” are among the many titles given for these horrific creatures..

Attila the Hun was rumoured to have been infected, Nero, Caligula, King George and Hitler were also at one point said to have been controlled by these diabolical creatures.]

Greg smiled at this point whilst shaking his head, do people really believe in this garbage he thought to himself? He carried on with the research.

[Though little is known about these creatures, what we do know is they’re tiny, just about distinguishable to the human eye, though very few humans have seen one and lived to tell the tale.

The ear creatures are drawn by fear, anguish, hate and sadness, powerful human emotions that produce invisible chemicals that in turn draw these beasts toward them.

These creatures usually always enter through the human ear, hence the name Ear People, as now called by most English speaking civilizations.

Once there, they burrow through the ear canal and up inside the human brain, what they do at that point is a mystery, but according to legend, these beings have the ability to alter and manipulate various brainwave patterns.

Not only that, but these fiendish beings also have the ability to alter the human brain’s fluidic content that protects it inside the cranium.

Re-adjusting various chemicals that provoke emotions, feelings, perceptions and so on.

Once ensconced inside its host’s brain, the Ear People can control the mind, usually resulting in death for both the host and his or her victims.

Why these beings do this no one knows, or more to the point no one wants to know, too many people disregard these theories as crackpot, sheer lunacy, the stuff of children’s fables and are usually treated as such..

But time and time again, various unexplained deaths continue to baffle and bemuse the authorities and though the powers that be mock my theory, science has also never been able to disprove it either.

Indeed how long before more needless deaths occur because man is too afraid to think “outside” the box?”]

*****

At that point Greg swiftly glanced at the cover of the book he was reading again.
*NEVER BE AFRAID OF THE UNEXPLAINED*
By Professor David Barclay.

Greg though a little disturbed at what he had just read, smiled again and in a somewhat mocking tone said aloud, “Well Prof, wonder were you got your title, at the institute of the barking mad?”

Greg threw the book to one side and after perusing other volumes decided to call it a day and crack on with the real reason he were there, work.

Later on that day Miss Appleby once again knocked on Greg Smith’s office door, after handing Greg various catalogues on new book releases, Dawn Appleby reached over to pick up the selection of books requested by Greg earlier.

Greg quickly leaned forward to scoop up the pile of books and in his haste, one of them slid off the top and onto the floor.
Dawn Appleby stooped down and after retrieving the fallen book paused a little whilst staring at it.

Greg again, a little fidgety asked as to what so fascinated Dawn with said book?

“Oh nothing really, except that.”
“Greg frowned a little, “except what?” he said.

“Well you “do” know what happened to this guy don’t you?”

At that point Dawn Appleby showed Greg Smith the book he’d been reading earlier, *NEVER BE AFRAID OF THE UNEXPLAINED* By Professor David Barclay.

Greg smiled, though a tad sarcastically, “probably sectioned I shouldn’t wonder, the man’s as mad as a hatter.”

Dawn replied by saying, “well that’s as well may be, but we are talking about an ex Professor Barclay now though.”
Greg stopped smiling, “what do you mean, he’s dead, what happened to him?”

It was Dawn Appleby’s turn to look a little uncomfortable now, staring down at the pile of books she were still holding she explained.

Well it were all over the news so I’m surprised you didn’t see it?”

Greg nodded that he didn’t see anything, which was a bit strange really given the fact Greg was a bit of a news hound.


“Well,” said Dawn, “I know the old boy had some strange ideas and such but.”

“But what,” snapped Greg, he was getting a little impatient now with all this supernatural claptrap, geeez, it was bad enough with his own Mother believing in it.

“Professor Barclay was attending a conference in New York, along with various other academics from universities the world over when something terrible happened.”

“Oh,” said Greg, now wearing a “I’ve got a bad feeling about this” look.

“Err yes, err, well the conference was being held in a skyscraper and a very large one at that.

Well it appeared and according to the only witness left alive, that Professor Barclay apparently suddenly lost the proverbial plot as it where.”

Greg’s face was a picture, but he didn‘t say anything he just kept staring at Dawn whilst she carried on with rest of the story.

“That was because Professor Barclay insisted that all 20 present academics read this book.”

Dawn again picked up Professor Barclay’s book and showed it to Greg.

“He asked them if they believed in his theory?”

They all said they didn’t and that Mr Barclay should maybe seek medical help, well that’s when the semi automatic machine pistol came out.

He shot and murdered 19 out of the 20 in cold blood, shortly after that he informed the reason he was leaving someone alive, was so they could inform the authorities about “The Ear People.”

“What happened to Barclay?” Said an incredulous Greg.

“He calmly opened a window on the 87th floor and dove out, but not before screaming something.”

“What was that?” said Greg, though this time in a hoarse whisper.

Dawn, with a grim expression said that the only witness left alive was told that the Ear People really exist and are here to stay, soon “everyone” will be friends with the Ear People, then he threw himself out of the window..”

An Ashen faced Greg Smith reached out for the book written by the now ex and obviously demented Barclay.

“Is that the only copy we have Miss Appleby?”

“Err yes, I think so Mr Smith, would you like me to check the catalogue?”

“No,” said Greg, “I’ll do it from here, that’ll be all thank you Miss Appleby.”

As soon as Dawn Appleby left his office, Greg Smith got onto computer records for Clapham & district Library and made a formal request to block any further copies of *NEVER BE AFRAID OF THE UNEXPLAINED*.

“Well Mum,” said Greg as he once again picked up the book written by Professor David Barclay now deceased.

“If ever this were proof that believing in lunatic stories about mythological mini demons were enough to send folks over the edge, then this bloody book was it."

Greg made a few more calls, wrote a couple of Memo’s then prepared to head home, though for some reason and on this occasion he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Then a thought came to him, picking up the late Professor Barclay’s book and tucking it under his arm, Greg switched off the lights, locked his office and headed for the car and home.

*******


Sarah Parker reacted instinctively.
Immediately switching off the electric bone saw Sarah leaned a little closer toward Roger Jennings’s right ear.

“What in the Lord God is that,” she murmured.

On picking up a large magnifying glass Sarah again leaned forward toward the ear cavity of the late but not lamented Roger Jennings.

It appeared something was coming out of the ear and just as Sarah positioned the large glass over the ear she screamed!!

“Jesus Christ, what in the fuck.”

Hundreds, if not thousands of tiny creatures were pouring out of the deceased’s ear cavity.

Sarah again instinctively leapt back away from the gurney and swiftly made her way out of the dead room..

Sarah Parker had been a forensic scientist for nearly 15 years and in all that time never seen anything like what she had just witnessed.

She paused a little to try and collect her senses, what she had just seen wasn’t normal, there just wasn’t any rational explanation.

Sarah had heard of various insect infestations from some of her fellow students at University, these particular students were studying entomology, but what Sarah had just seen clearly weren’t insects, or none that she’d ever seen.

Sarah somehow managed to steady herself and though resisting the urge to go for a cigarette, she had to go back into the dead room and finish the job in hand.

Sarah slowly re entered Pathology room A.

Glancing around nervously, she cautiously edged toward the gurney where Roger Jennings lay.

Like a child that has to return back to its room after experiencing a nightmare, Sarah duly inspected “everything.”


The area immediately around the corpse wasn’t crawling with anything, nor where there any signs of infestation anywhere else in the room.

A much closer, thorough inspection verified that fact.

“Oh no,” muttered Sarah, “you’re losing it girl, too many late nights and far too much booze.”

She smiled at that and having a trained scientific mind, merely put what she had just seen down to a brief hallucination, probably brought on by over indulging.

An hour later Sarah was in another section of the huge building encompassing Scotland Yard.

Though the autopsy on the postman from hell hadn’t revealed anything untoward, not withstanding the brief hallucinogenic encounter, Sarah still had gotten the nosey bug.

Not that she would have included in the report what she allegedly saw anyway, her colleges were an unforgiving bunch when it came to poking fun.

But somewhere at the back of Sarah’s intelligent mind, she knew, in that very brief moment when the glass were positioned right over Jennings’s ear something just wasn‘t right.

Well, the “things” she saw where the stuff of nightmares and as open a mind Sarah undoubtedly had, to rationalise what were under the glass seemed utterly incomprehensible.

Sarah, now seated at a computer terminal entered a series of code numbers only available to serving Police officers.

Once into the system, Sarah swiftly accessed the PNC [Police National Computer] It wasn’t long before Sarah found what she was looking for.

All cases associated with unexplained deaths related to the ex postman Jennings, as well as other similar cases pertaining to sudden random acts of so called rage killings.

Whilst wading through these somewhat rather tragic cases, Sarah spotted one near to home, literally.

Sarah Parker lived in Walthamstow and as soon as one of these so called unexplained deaths, supposedly associated with madness popped up, it caught her attention..

This was another bizarre unexplained death, but totally different to all the others in respect of how the subject in question had died.

Francis Gregory Smith apparently had taken his own life, well just another bog standard suicide thought Sarah to herself?

“So why would you be in here with all the other weird stuff Francis?” Murmured Sarah to no one in particular.


Sarah then clicked onto how frank Smith died and it was this bit that made Sarah Parker sit up and pay attention..

Cause of death [Asphyxiation] Poor Frank had it seems been found hanging from the neck by his rather distraught wife Irene Smith and according to relatives and friends had shown no prior signs or symptoms indicating this would be a reason for taking his own life.

Sarah clicked onto the coroners findings and remarks, also witness statements of various people associated with the late Frank Smith.

It was whilst reading the statement given by Mrs Smith that Sarah nearly fell out of her chair!!

Two hours later, Forensics officer Parker was heading home, but not before popping over to 187 Bartholomew avenue in Walthamstow.

Sarah needed to put some serious questions to Mrs Irene Smith, though this was highly untoward and given the fact that Sarah wasn’t even involved in that case. 

Sarah was now beginning to realise that what she’d seen back in the path lab was no hallucination and Irene‘s constant references, even under oath about bizarre creatures known as “the Ear People was quite frankly scaring her to death!!

******


Both Mother and son stared at each other.

Greg, placing back onto the table the late Professor Barclay’s book gently consoled his Mother.

“So you see Mum, the Professor was quite mad and all this bloody business about mythological beings living inside here,” Greg at that point tapped the side of his head with a forefinger.
“Is simply just all in the imagination, so can we finally stop going on about believing in weird stuff like the Ear People, please?”

Greg smiled as he said those last words and gently took hold of his Mother’s left hand and affectionately squeezed it.

Irene Smith didn’t react at first, she were staring into space again, which prompted her son’s usual cause for concern once more followed by the usual reassuring hand squeeze.

Greg leaned forward to tenderly kiss his Mum on the cheek and then said, “promise me, no more mention of these Ear People, OK?”

Irene gently returned the kiss and after a very short pause nodded in the affirmative, then the doorbell rang!

“Greg looked at his Mother and said, “are you expecting anyone?”

Irene smiled again, though this time it was an empty smile and replied that the only people that seemed to come to this house anymore were the police and social services. 

"Everyone else, the neighbours, former friends, thinks I’m mad and all because I said I believed in the,” Greg placed a forefinger to his Mother’s lips.

“We had a promise remember.”

Sarah Parker was just about to ring the doorbell again when the front door suddenly opened.

A tall middle aged blond lady stood silhouetted in the door against the light of the hallway.

“Yes officer, is there anything I can do for you,” said Irene Smith.

Sarah was a little bit spooked, well apart from being off duty and such, wasn’t and didn’t wear a uniform, so how the hell did this woman know she was a cop?

Though a little taken aback Sarah swiftly got into character and introduced herself, it was then Greg appeared in the doorway alongside his Mother.

“We’ve said all we have to say about what happened to my father Ms Parker and if you don’t mind we’d rather all put this in the past and move on.

Its simply not helping that the fact the Police keep turning up on the doorstep and asking questions, I mean what is there left to say?”

It was at that point Sarah and though she didn’t want to say any of this on the Smith’s doorstep spoke these few words.

“The Ear people? I think I may have seen them!!”

Without any hesitation, Mrs Irene Smith grabbed a hold of Sarah Parkers right arm and yanking her inside the house slammed the door shut behind her!

Sarah was a little perturbed at Irene’s reactions, as was her son Greg.

“Mum,” cried Greg, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Police assault, kidnapping, false imprisonment were only some of the possible charges flashing through Greg’s head at this point in time..

In fact it appeared poor Irene had finally reached breaking point and was now in the preliminary stages of cracking up.

“Please Mrs Smith, gasped Sarah, you’re hurting me.”

Irene was still fastened onto Sarah’s right arm, almost like a death grip, nails digging in, even through the leather jacket Sarah were wearing.

Greg had momentarily disappeared, but he were back now and trying desperately to convince his Mother to let go of the nice Police lady.

But instead of letting go, Irene squeezed even harder now and rather disturbingly began to laugh, at the same time pulling Sarah Parker closer toward her…

Almost nose to nose now with each other, a shaking Irene Smith stared right into Sarah’s eyes and asked her a question.

“Constable Parker, do you believe in the Ear People, yes or no?”

Sarah now realised this woman wasn’t only unhinged, but possibly psychotic, which meant dangerous, which meant Sarah, even if she wasn‘t totally sure what she had seen, must play the game and calm Irene Smith down.

“Yes Mrs Smith, I think I do.”

“Finally.”

Shouted Irene Smith, turning to her son Greg, Irene carried on with her speech.

"See son, I told you the Ear People exist, didn’t I, I told you, I kept telling you and you didn’t believe me, no one believed me, but now, right here in front of us is the real proof, a Police woman has actually really really seen them.."

Irene turned to stare at Sarah once more, she’d released Sarah’s arm now and calming just a little, apologised and then began weeping freely.

“You have to tell people,” cried Irene, you have to tell the world about these horrible things, suddenly Irene began laughing again which only confirmed to Sarah that Mrs Irene Smith had reached the brink of madness and would, after tonight have to be possibly sectioned into a mental institution.

Abruptly and unexpectedly it were Greg that spoke.

“I warned you Mother, I warned you to stop fucking banging on about those fucking Ear People, but no, you just wouldn’t shut the fuck up would you?”


Sarah Parker in all her years of methodical Police training just wasn’t prepared for what was about to happen next and died wishing she had paid more attention to that time honoured Police text book mantra, “always” expect the unexpected.”

A thirteen inch Butcher knife suddenly materialised from behind Greg Smith’s back and in a lightening quick slashing move embedded itself deep into the neck of one Sarah Parker.

Sarah died almost instantly there and then, the jugular having been severed meant that Sarah’s life blood was now leaving her body at the same velocity of a high powered burst water main.

Greg had already removed the deadly weapon before a lifeless Sarah slumped to the hall floor.

Irene Smith stayed rooted to the spot, terrified but never once taking her eyes off her son ominously standing in front of her.

Greg’s eyes were shining now and he appeared to be moving his head around in a somewhat bizarre manner, like he was listening to someone.

But of course the only people there in the hallway were Greg’s Mother and the now stabbed to death female Police officer lying in a bloody heap on the floor.

It was Irene who spoke first, however, it wasn’t frantic, it wasn’t hysterical as before, this Time, Irene knowing what was coming, spoke in a measured and calm voice, possibly for the first time since her husband’s impromptu death.

“So it was “you” all along, making it look like it were I that was insane, but all the time it was my dear old Greg.”

Greg slowly moved toward his Mother, eyes full of murderous intent, Butcher knife twirling menacingly around in his right hand, pausing it was now Greg’s turn to speak.

“Poor little Mummykins never had a clue, yet it was right there, in Barclay’s book.
Only male members of the Human race have, or can ever host the Ear people.” 

Greg reached out to gently caress his Mother's tear stained face, on scooping up a finger of the salty liquid, Greg slowly placed the same finger into his mouth and sucked it.

He spoke again.. “You were right all along of course, Daddy did kill himself, but not because “he” wanted to, but because “we” wanted him to.”

At that point and laughing like a complete maniac Greg pointed both forefingers toward both left and right ears on his head.

It was then that Greg once again cocked his head up and down, left to right, as though some invisible radio signal was transmitting a message into his brain…

Message complete, Greg smiled and upon lifting high the thirteen inch Butcher Knife, plunged it right through his mother’s heart!!




THE END

Sunday, 11 September 2011

THE PRICE OF BRAVERY




















Cary Sheih was actually inside Tower 1 at the World Trade Center on the morning of September 11th 2001.


This is his story..
.


"Dear All,

Now that I can begin to think clearly again, I would like to take the time to thank each and every one of you for your concern of my well-being. It was a very close call, and I am grateful to be alive.

As you probably all know by now, I narrowly escaped from the World Trade Center attack this past Tuesday, unlike the thousands who are still trapped beneath the rubble.

At 8:48am on Tuesday morning, I was reading my email like I do every morning. I had just gotten off the phone with a traffic engineer at the Port Authority regarding a file that I had transmitted to him on the previous day. As I was finishing off my usual peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I heard a loud explosion, which was immediately followed by tremendous building sways and vibrations. As I was thrown out of my chair,I immediately thought that this was an earthquake, but still thinking rationally, I thought that it was abnormal since there are no earthquakes in NYC, especially of this magnitude. I remember thinking that the building felt like it was going to collapse from this initial explosion.

As I picked myself up and ran to the emergency staircase located in the core of the huge building, I saw through the east facing windows debris and fireballs falling from the top of the building. The building had stabilized by the time I reached the stairwell, and evacuation had commenced quickly but calmly. Not knowing the gravity of what was happening above us, people had started pouring into the stairwell from the hallways of the different floors. I saw a co-worker from my floor (72nd), and we held and consoled each other.

There were no public announcements in the stairwell, but the evacuation seemed to be going smoothly, there were no more explosions as far as we could tell, no smoke coming up the stairwell, and the building had stopped swaying. We all felt like we were out of imminent danger. As we started to make it down the stairwell, people started chatting and gathering their composures. I heard some people who had been there in '93 telling others that this was a piece of cake since the stairwell was dark and full of smoke in '93. Others were joking about how Mr. Silverstein, who had just recently taken control of the complex, must be fuming at what was happening. A few moments passed and people began to receive messages over their pagers that a 767 had accidentally hit our building. There was no mention of a terrorist attack, and at no time was there any panic. Mobile phones were completely out in the core of the building due to its immenseness and the large distance from the core of the building to the exterior where signals were usually stronger. There was no smoke at all in the stairwell, but there was a strange peculiar smell, which I later remembered it smelling like how it does when one boards an aircraft. I later found out that this was jet fuel.

Soon we heard shouts from the people above us to keep to the right. I started seeing blind people, those with difficulty moving, asthmatics and injured people filing down to our left. People were burned so badly that I won't go into describing it. People kept filing down orderly and calmly, but stunned.

Sometime around the 30th or 40th floor, we passed the first fire-fighters coming up the stairs. They reassured people that we were safe and that we would all get out fine. By this point, they were already absolutely breathless, but still pushing upward, slowly and unyieldingly, one step at a time. I could only imagine how tired they were, carrying their axes, hoses and heavy outfits and climbing up all those stairs. Young men started offering the firemen to carry up their gear for a few flights, but they all refused. EACH and EVERY ONE of them. As I relive this moment over and over in my mind, I can't help but think that these courageous firemen already knew in their minds that they would not make it out of the building alive and that they didn't not want to endanger any more civilians and prevent one less person from making it to safety on the ground.

We continued down the stairwell, slowly and at times completely stalled. The smell of jet fuel had gotten so unbearable that people began covering their mouths and noses with anything that they could find - ties, shirts, handkerchiefs. Every few floors, emergency crew were passing out water and sodas from the vending machines that they had split open from the hallways.

I had no idea how much time had passed by as I didn't have my mobile phone with me. Around the 20th or 15th floor, the emergency crew began diverting the people in our stairwell to a different stairwell. They led us out of our stairwell, across the hallway where I saw exhausted firemen and emergency crew sitting on the floor trying to catch their breaths. I began to think why? What's going on? This whole operation looked very confusing.

Nobody was giving us any indication as to what was going on. The wait in the hallway to get to the other staircase was excruciatingly long as we had to wait and merge with the people who were coming down the staircase into which we were filing. Why had they diverted us? As we started to get down to the lower floors, water started to pour down from behind us. I figured that a water pipe had burst or that it was water coming down from the rescue on the higher floors.

At this moment for the first time since the initial explosion, a sense of panic began to grip me. Only floor 7, then 6. A few more to go, and I would be free. I couldn't wait. It didn't matter that the water was ankle deep. I was a few floors from the ground. Floor 4, then all of a sudden, a loud boom, and the building began to shake unbearably again. People started falling down the stairwell as smoke started to rise from the bottom. The emergency lights flickered and then went out. The building was still shaking, and I could hear the steel buckling.

Rescuers below us shouted for us to go back up the stairs. At this moment, I was choking and shaking tremendously. I managed to climb back up to the 6th or 7th floor and opened the door to that floor. The water had already risen to my ankles, and the floor was completely dark. A fireman led us with his flashlights to another staircase by the voices of another fireman who was guiding him through the darkness. We finally made it across that floor to
the other stairwell where we were greeted by the other fireman and told to hold. The look on that fireman's face said it all. He said something under his lips to our fireman indicating the severity of the situation.

With the image of the firemen communicating to each other and hindsight, I believe that the fireman had whispered to the other one that Building Two had collapsed.

After a few minutes of huddling by the stairwell on the 6th floor, we were given the green light to run for our lives. I made it down six flights with a few other people and came out onto the mezzanine level of our building.

I don't know what I was expecting to see when I got out of the stairwell, but I was not ready for this apocalyptic scene. It was completely covered in white dust and smoke. My initial reaction was that I couldn't believe that one plane, albeit a 767, 80 floors above our head caused all this damage on the ground floor - inside.

I covered my head and ran towards the huge opening in the north side of the building through which we were being evacuated. As I approached this threshold, the firemen yelled to us to get over to the wall of the building quickly. Debris was still raining from all sides of the building. We could see the other fire-fighters who were outside standing underneath the cantilevered parts of the black immigration building (4 and/or 5 WTC).

At their cue, we ran from our building to the outside world and back underneath the immigration building. I was completely disoriented, coughing, and looking at the strange new landscape at the WTC plaza - burning trees, wreckage, fireballs and dust, nothing short of a nuclear winter. I climbed over huge pieces of steel wreckage and made my way through to the sky bridge leading to 7 WTC (building 3 to collapse). From there, I descended the escalators down to the street level onto Vesey Street and trotted to safety onto Church Street. I immediately looked back and saw the charred remains of the upper floors of my building.

Smoke filled the sky, and I began to have this eerie feeling that WTC 2 was not there. I couldn't be sure because of all the smoke that was billowing from my building blowing eastward. As I was trying to find WTC 2, I saw the unthinkable happen in front
of my eyes. WTC 1 began to disintegrate from where it was burning. I turned around and ran.I later learned that another 767 had hit WTC 2 around the floors where I sit in my building. I later learned that WTC 2 had collapsed when we were still inside my building on the fourth floor when it began to shake for a second time.

I later learned that I had been spared from the sight of people falling from the higher floors. I am grateful to be alive and uninjured and to be able to share this life-changing experience with you. And, I am so grateful for the courage of the firemen and policemen who gave up their lives to help us down the burning tower."

Sincerely,

Cary Sheih

*****

Dedicated to "ALL" the emergency services who freely gave their lives that terrible day, so folks like Cary and many others could continue to live theirs.

THESE MAGNIFICENT SELFLESS INDIVIDUALS WILL NEVER BE FORGOTTEN....

Sunday, 15 May 2011

EA QUATTUOR





















1


EA QUATTUOR




The J Robert Oppenhiemer research institute, Binggs Montana

In December 2001 a bill was rushed through congress and swiftly ratified at the request of the department of defense. Given the recent attacks on New York and Washington as well as the new urgent directive on the global war on terror there were minimal if any resistance to acquire the five billion dollars needed to set up a brand new research facility.
Eighteen months later, armed with all the latest technology and the best brains on the planet, Project Pandora opened its doors.
Project Pandora was, basically an in depth scientific research program to find answers and in Project Pandora’s case it was specifically aimed at children who were born with unusual and incredible talents.
These subjects/Savants came from all over the world, nearly all of them by force and some were exceptionally more gifted than others.
Among the varying arrays of talent on show were kids who could calculate faster than any computer on the planet, some kids could play any instrument you chose to put in front of them, some kids could even sketch a drawing of any hidden photograph you had on your person, immediately after touching it.
However, there were four even more amazing subjects who stood out head and shoulders above the others and their names are, Greta, Thomas, Joseph and Karl.
The reasons why these particular four are exceptionally more incredible than all the others are numerous. Greta, Thomas, Joseph and Karl are Quads and were born on the 25th of December 1993, which of course is Christmas day.
Immediately after giving birth, the quads mother, Heidi Kreutz died rather suddenly, doctors at the Pinzendorf hospital were completely baffled, as right up and until the waters broke there hadn’t been any signs or any indications of any complications.
The Father a Mr Hans Metler had earlier fled the nest shortly after realising he was about to be the father of four children.
There were no immediate family members to hand, or none that came forward, so six months after the birth and various newspaper coverage, a family stepped forward and offered to foster the newborn mites.
It wasn’t until the quads had reached their first birthdays that it soon became apparent they weren’t your ordinary run of the mill children.
One of many strange incidents was, one morning when making a cup of coffee Mr Zimmerman (the foster father) picked the cup up off a kitchen unit and on turning to enter the lounge tripped over one of the many toys that had been kindly donated by generous and sympathetic well wishers.

2

Zimmerman pitched full length and thus unable to stop the scalding hot cup of coffee from spilling directly all over little Greta’s smiling upturned face.
To his horror Heinrich Zimmerman fully expected baby Greta to scream in agony and probably be scarred for life.
What happened next completely hit Heinrich for six and staring at Greta, he gasped in utter shock and amazement!
As soon as the scalding hot liquid landed on little Greta, there was, as you’d expect a reaction from the youngster. However it wasn’t what you’d imagine from someone who’d just had scalding fluid spilled onto them, it was sort of a muted yelp added with a sort of puzzled expression.
What was completely astounding Heinrich though was the fact that as soon as little Greta’s face began to redden and probably blister, it stopped, for want of a better word, it just didn’t.
Indeed Greta carried on playing with Mr squeaky mouse just as if nothing had happened and shortly after, a still stunned and shocked Heinrich Zimmerman proceeded to clean up the spilled beverage.
Over the course of the next eight years one strange occurrence followed another and It didn’t take long before the local gossip machine cranked itself into action and it was only a matter of time before a US Naval attaché working at the Munich consulate and whilst watching a local news broadcast, made a swift cell phone call to an unlisted number.
Six weeks later, the Kreutz Quad’s were in the news again, though this time it was under tragic circumstances.
There had been a terrible accident involving a mechanised digger and the Zimmerman’s family saloon, on colliding with the roadside digger the Volvo estate careered over the side of the Zingspeigle pass dropping 200 metres down into the ravine below.
Exploding on impact there was of course no survivors, only tragically, six badly charred bodies of which were later identified as Mr and Mrs Zimmerman along with the Quads.
Of course the Quads hadn’t really perished, as soon as that Naval attaché who incidentally wasn’t really a Naval attaché had made that phone call, a task procurement unit from Project Pandora was subsequently dispatched and on organizing a fake death for the Quads, the extraction was swiftly completed. However, unfortunately for the Zimmerman’s, their demise “was” real, there couldn’t be any loose ends were Project Pandora was concerned.

Six days later, the four slightly bemused and drugged Quadruplets were introduced to the weird and wonderful world that was Project Pandora and it wasn’t long before the Kreutz children were performing like sea lions at the local zoo.
Simple stuff to start with, like immersing all four children in Hydrochloric acid baths, along with a sheet of high tensile steel, the steel dissolved, the kid’s didn’t.
More experiments ensued and raised eyebrow followed raised eyebrow so eventually like the eyebrow, the ante was also raised and thus the Kreutz children then entered the “final phase.”

3

Deep inside the core of the J Robert Oppenhiemer research facility lies a special room, this was were all the really really top secret stuff went on, real hush hush, the other experiments were all classified of course, but this, “The Alpha Room” is were all the heavy duty shit went down, like Alien autopsies, Black ops genetics, Bio mechanical engineering etc.
Usually all the personnel involved in these rather nefarious activities were extremely expendable and as such knew the minute they signed up for Pandora that they could never ever leave his facility, one of the scientists favourite records was Hotel California and for good reason.

The lights were dimmed and there was the sound of a low hum from the equipment, Dr Peterson glanced at several of his colleagues, nodding he spoke.
“Ready?”
Everyone nodded, “Ok,” murmured Dr Peterson, “lets get this show on the road.”
As soon as Peterson said those words, the humming sound intensified and all four Kreutz kids screamed!
The second all quadruplets screamed, Dr Peterson gestured to one of his fellow scientists to ease back on the controls.
What was actually going on in the Alpha room was. By attaching various electrodes to the children’s heads the other ends then being attached to a revolutionary piece of equipment called the Einstein Enhancer.
This incredible device could scan and monitor synaptic brain wave patterns, it could also enhance parts of the brain that were deemed as dormant or none active, given what the four Kreutz kids were already capable of, well, the possibilities were endless.
The screaming subsided to mere whimpers now and Dr James Peterson indicated that, that “was” the required pitch needed.
The Einstein Enhancer carried on working it’s magic on the four securely strapped children seated directly in front of the contraption, Peterson indicated one more minute and then shortly after, made a cutting motion across his throat.
The machine whirred to a stop and Dr Peterson strode over to where the now unconscious Quads were slumped forward.
“Status report” cried Peterson,
“Heart rate normal, pulse normal, brain wave activity, errr, I think you better take a look at this Dr Peterson,” uttered one of the other scientists.
Peterson again, swiftly headed over to where the operative studying the EE was stood.
“Holy shit,” cried Peterson, it’s gone better than I ever thought it would do, Jesus Christ, will you look at that?”
What Dr James Peterson and the rest of the team were looking at was a never before seen phenomenon, all four Children’s brains were now fully functional as in totally operative, most humans only ever get to use one half of their cerebral capabilities, however in this case the Einstein Enhancer had done it’s stuff and by this achievement alone had surely justified all that massive expenditure needed to fund Project Pandora.

4

“Time to find out what the little mites think of their new found capabilities,” said Dr Peterson and he indicated that the four subjects be revived and then it happened!
Just as one of Dr Peterson’s team was about to attach oxygen masks to the Quads all four children’s eyes blinked open.
An alarm sounded on the EE and Dr Peterson quickly glanced round at the four subjects in hand.
The scientist carrying the Oxygen masks froze and then, as though some giant invisible hand had grabbed him by the throat he seemed to just lift up into the air and was subsequently hurled what must have been 30 ft across the Laboratory, crashing into a lifeless heap onto the floor.
That all happened in a split second and even though Dr Peterson’s left hand was lightning quick and heading toward a large red Panic button on his desk, he wasn’t fast enough.
Fingertips only centimetres away from the button, Peterson’s hand stopped dead and then his fingers seemed to bend backwards fashion as though some invisible force had seized them.
Slowly at first and against a background of horrendous screaming from the other scientists, Peterson’s left arm extended as though someone was pulling on it, again, slowly at first, Peterson seemed to spin round, a bit like children do in the school playground, then it speeded up faster and faster until Peterson became almost a white blur, suddenly he was let go and hit the Alpha room wall as if he’d been fired out of a cannon.
The rest of Dr James Peterson’s team didn’t fare any better and amid the crumpled white-jacketed corpses, Greta, Thomas, Joseph and Karl all linked hands, gazing at each other Greta spoke, “I think it’s time we all went home, don’t you?”


The Pentagon Washington DC

Colonel Harry Patterson had just finished a briefing with the Joint Chiefs of Staff when the Bat phone lit up on his office desk. “Shit” uttered Patterson he paused for a few seconds while he looked at the flashing dome.
Colonel Patterson called this particular phone his Bat phone because as akin to the famous movie character this phone was a direct link to a secret place, though in this case not the famous Bat cave it wasn’t far away in the no one else is supposed to know scheme of things.
The colonel reached over and after removing the Perspex dome he quickly snatched the phone off its cradle. “Speak,” uttered Patterson.”
A voice on the other end informed the colonel there had been a security breach regarding Pandora.
Colonel Harry Patterson leapt up off his chair as if he had fire ants in his underpants. “You better be shitting me soldier,” he screamed and immediately asked how.

5

“It’s those four kids sir, you know, the freaky quads from Germany.”
Patterson listened to a few more details and said, “where are they now?”
“Well they’re out of the Alpha room sir and heading for, I guess, the main exit.”
The colonel immediately cut in and said, “now you listen to me General, those kids cannot leave the facility do you understand, they’re not allowed to leave that faculty under any circumstances am I clear on that?”
“Am I led to believe I’m to use lethal force if necessary sir?”
“You can believe anything you Goddamn want Soldier but if those kids get away from that mountain I’ll personally have your testicles pickled and served on a fucking Wendy burger do I make myself perfectly crystal on this?”
“Perfectly sir,” and with that last remark the line went dead and Colonel Harry Patterson clunked the dome back over the Bat phone.
The colonel immediately picked up another phone and said, “ Colonel Patterson, get me the ready room,” seconds later Colonel Harry Patterson ex gulf war and Somalia vet had a secure line connection to the President of the United States.

General Andrew (please call me Andy) Sandler hung up the phone and then issued orders for a total lock down at the J Robert Oppenheimer Research centre.
Lock downs were extremely rare and used only as a last resort and although the General absolutely detested what was going on this hell-hole, he had a duty to perform and kids or not, if the order from Washington said shoot to kill then, well, as distasteful as that sounded, he was a serving soldier with the US Rangers and orders were orders after all.
The General picked another phone up and said “where,”
“Monitor 8 sir,” returned the voice on the phone, Sandler immediately flicked a switch in front of him and there, again right in front of him were four ten year old kids.
Sandler sighed, “this ain’t right, they’re only fucking kids man,” he flicked another switch and then spoke into a small desk mic.
“Now hear this, now hear this, we don’t want anymore trouble kids, do you hear?
Turn to look at the camera directly situated behind you if you can hear me.”
Immediately all four Kreutz children turned as one and stared directly into the camera lens in front of them.
“Good, that’s good,” said General Sandler, “now please be seated and wait for the nice soldiers to arrive and take you back to your rooms, do you understand?”
As soon as Sandler had uttered those words the screen on monitor 8 went black and General Andy Sandler cried the words “Oh Fuck.”
Immediately after the monitor screen went blank General Sandler grabbed a walkie-talkie off the desk in front of him.
“Contain and secure level 5 is that understood?”
“Affirmative” barked a voice followed by a burst of static.

6

Facing the eight strong squad of US Army Rangers was a locked four-inch thick steel containment door.
The lead ranger radioed for further instructions. “Permission to enter containment room sir,” requested the CO.
“Negative,” replied Sandler, let them cool off a little,” just as the General had uttered those words, he definitely heard the tell tale sound of what sounded like all eight AK 47s being cocked.
Again Sandler barked into the radio, “will someone tell me what the fuck is going on?”
“Errr, we seem to have a situation here sir,” replied a very spooked CO.
“What sort of situation Jennings? They’re all behind a four-inch thick steel door for Christ sakes” cried Sandler.
General Sandler had heard enough, swiftly checking his side arm he leapt up and headed out toward Jennings on level 5.
Adam Jennings just stared in utter disbelief at the 6ft four-inch thick door, as it seemed to bow outwards
“What in the name of Fuck,” cried Jennings, he glanced over at the rest of his squad who even though focused and in the zone were probably just as fucking terrified as he was.
With a horrible groaning sound the steel door crashed off its hinges and as though it was some kind of signal all eight Rangers dropped to their knees, the tension was palpable. “Wait,” shouted Jennings, he keyed the mic on his Walkie Talkie again and said, “we have a contact sir, what are your orders?”
“Hold your fire Jennings I’m almost there,” answered Sandler.
The minute General Sandler entered Level 5 he immediately appraised the situation in front of him.
Crouched and very business like were eight highly trained soldiers and “all” of them had their weapons trained on four ten-year-old kids.
Greta, Thomas, Karl and Joseph walked very slowly towards the crouching Rangers and then suddenly they stopped.
Greta broke hands with her brothers and cocking her head to one side she spoke.
General Sandler waited until Greta had finished and then looking round at his troops said, anyone here speak German?
There was an edgy pause then suddenly, one of the Rangers spoke up, “I do sir, my Grand folks hail from Dussledorf.”
“What’s she saying Stolz, asked Sandler?
“Well, she’s saying all they want to do is go home and see their Mom and Dad sir and that they don’t wanna hurt anybody, can’t say I blame em either.”
“That’s enough Stolz, I asked for a translation not a social report,” replied Sandler curtly. “You tell her we can’t let that happen Stolz, orders are these kids aren’t allowed to leave the base under any circumstances, is that understood?”

7

Still with his rifle still trained on Greta’s forehead, Private Eric Stolz grimaced and began to convey in German exactly what his commanding officer had just said.
Greta slowly stepped back and re clasped hands with her three brothers.
Almost in the blink of an eye all eight army rangers turned their AKs on each other and in one short burst it was all over.
As that madness was happening and for some inexplicable reason General Andy Sandler walked swiftly toward Jennings emptying the clip from his Glock into him as he did so. General Sandler looked down at the bullet riddled forms around him and just as he was trying to take in all this madness Greta approached him, gently placing a hand on his forehead General Andrew Sandler screamed himself to death.

The situation room, Whitehouse, Washington DC.

Three men stood waiting patiently as the most powerful man on the planet sipped on a low fat mocha.
Eventually and probably purposely, the 43rd President of the United States asked a question?
“Seems we have what we call in Texas a mess o rattlers gentleman, now which one of you good folks would care to tell me how this came about and more to the point how we can put a lid on it before Katie Couric starts crawling up my butt channel.”
The three men started to shift uneasily, Dr Henry Meyer (head scientist and founder of Project Pandora) Richard Cohen (head of homeland security) and finally Colonel Harry Patterson (department of Defense).
It was Dr Meyer who spoke first.
“ Errrm, we seem to have encountered a sort of complication, errrm with subjects a b c and d sir, but I’m sure the relevant departments will swiftly contain the situation which will enable us to carry on with our, errrm, investigations.”
The commander in Chief swiftly replied and it wasn’t complimentary.
“What you really mean Dr Meyer is that you’ve been screwing around with stuff you don’t really understand and now that the moonshine still’s been knocked over “you” sir want someone else to clean it up, would I be correct on that assumption?”
Meyer started to reply, “well, I wouldn’t necessarily,”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” interjected the President, shuffling some notes then furtively glancing at his wrist watch he cocked a forefinger at Harry Patterson and Richard Cohen then said, “which brings me to you two gentlemen, Richard you go first.”
The head of homeland security cleared his throat and then started to speak.
“Well sir we have established a ten mile containment area immediately surrounding the J Robert Oppenhiemer facility, as well as evacuating any residents errrm witnesses within that particular vicinity, leaving the way clear for my esteemed associate to do whatever it is he has to do.”

8

Richard Cohen turned to look at Colonel Harry Patterson as soon as he had finished speaking.
Colonel Patterson stared directly back at the head of homeland security as well as narrowing his eyes, “smug sonafabitch” thought Harry, he didn’t particularly like Richard Cohen or any of his redneck Peckerwood yahoos that “were” the organization called Homeland Security.
Colonel Patterson turned to the president and started to give his account of what was about to happen up there in big sky country.
“As far as we know sir there aren’t any known survivors, well non that we know of,”
“What,” cried the President immediately leaping to his feet, “How?”
Harry Patterson grimaced, why was it always him that seemed to piss off the Commander in Chief and then duly informed his boss everything he knew of what had recently happened at Project Pandora.
“Holy Cow,” uttered the President, “how is this possible, they’re only Kids for Christ sakes,”
“But these are not normal kids sir, indeed they’re extremely dangerous and are already accountable for at least a hundred deaths,” interrupted Colonel Patterson, “which unfortunately is why we have to do what we have to do next.”


Wolf Point, Montana, 25 miles from the Canadian border

Four solitary figures linking hands, walked swiftly down the blacktop highway that hopefully would soon lead them to the Canadian Border and safety.
You’re probably wondering how four ten year old kids, from another country, that speak a foreign language would even know what Canada was let alone have formulated a strategic plan to get there.
Well, as soon as Greta’s hand had made contact with General Sandler she’d not only relieved the General of his life, Greta had also taken everything that was stored inside Sandler’s brain!
You see one of the many abilities the Kreutz children now had, was that they could, once contact had been made, extract any memories or information that had been stored in various neural capacitors inside the human brain.
Not only that, once the extraction was complete, upon linking hands, all four siblings could then transfer the extracted information amongst themselves.
Another amazing ability the Quads had and even before his death Dr Peterson wasn’t aware of this either, Greta, Thomas, Joseph and Karl were “telepathic” disturbingly not just among themselves but with anyone whom should get within a certain distance.
Greta pointed to a large roadside sign that read, welcome to Wolf Point, population 560.
Turning to look at her brother’s they all nodded and then headed toward what looked like a smattering of farm buildings.

9

150 miles away two F/A18 Hornets from the Montana National Guard left the runway at Billings, the two aircraft were officially on exercises, unofficially they were looking for four scary looking blond haired kids who apparently had made short work of a crack Rangers unit at the Oppenhiemer research base at Binggs.
Colonel Randy Newman checked the navigational systems on his F/A18 and then seeing everything was how it should be, he glanced out of the cockpit window to give the A OK sign to the accompanying fighter jet.
“How soon to contact,” said a voice in Newman’s headphones?
“E T A approximately five minutes,” replied Newman.
“This sure don’t feel right,” said the other pilot, “no sir, don’t feel right at all.”
“Just concentrate on the mission Kawaski,” replied Newman again, “I know what you’re thinking but there’s more to this than you think and orders are orders after all, understand?”
“Affirmative sir,” answered Kawaski.
An alarm sounded in Newman’s cockpit and the Colonel immediately stated it was show time.

Greta glanced upwards as she heard a sound she’d never heard before, a sort of loud roaring noise coming out of the sky, with a look of concern all four children huddled together whilst nervously still looking up at the sky.

Colonel Newman flipped a switch on his control panel and voice told him that weapons were armed and the target was locked, immediately after that he spoke into a tiny mic attached to his headset.
“ Homestead this is Eagle 1, weapons are live and the target has been acquired, do we have a go situation I repeat do we have a go situation?”
The reply was emphatic. “Eagle 1 this is homestead, affirmative, you have a go go situation, take em out Randy.”
Newman said, “Affirmative” and instantaneously both F/A18s fired all four sidewinders directly toward the four unsuspecting Kreutz children!
Seconds before impact something quite incredible happened.
The four sparrow sidewinder missiles had done what they were supposed to do and locked onto the heat patterns that would naturally radiate from the Quads.
However they didn’t strike they just stopped, astonishingly the four air to ground missiles were literally frozen in mid-air only feet away from the Kreutz children
Glancing at each other they’d simultaneously unclasped hands and after nodding in agreement, Greta, Thomas, Karl and Joseph slowly walked towards the four hovering missiles, at exactly the same time, each sibling then placed a hand on the missile nose cone, spinning the sidewinder round 180º all four Kreutz children after again glancing at one another and yet again in perfect tandem lifted their small hands upwards as if you were about to push someone over.
Immediately all four missiles roared into life and swiftly disappeared into the blue Montana sky.

10

Just as Colonel Randy Newman was in the process of making final landing arrangements for Billings an alarm screeched a warning on his computerised flight systems.
Newman couldn’t understand it and stared disbelievingly at the screen in front of him. “Holy Fuck I’ve been targeted, Homestead this is Eagle 1 I have a bogey in pursuit, repeat, I have a bogey in pursuit, ” Newman could hear Kawaski shouting the same thing.
Both Pilots were extremely experienced and had both seen action in Iraq and Afghanistan, however neither pilot had been attacked before by the kind of sophisticated weaponry that was now homing in remorselessly towards the heat signature that encompassed the rear engine.
Just as homestead base screamed orders for evasive manoeuvres, both AIM-sparrow sidewinders slammed into Colonel Newman’s F/A-18 and the resulting fireball completely incinerated both jet and pilot, the exact same thing happened to Kawaski.
Both air traffic controllers at Billings Airbase just silently stared at each other in utter disbelief and at exactly that point a phone rang at the side of them, slowly and with terrible trepidation one of the controllers gingerly picked up the telephone.

Department of Defense HQ, Washington DC


“You’re sure there are no survivors,” said Colonel Patterson to a voice on the other end of the horn, the other voice was quite sure and said that what wreckage “was” recovered you could fit in a shoebox.
Patterson grimaced at that parting remark and after hanging up he turned to face Richard Cohen and Dr Meyer.
“May I ask you a personal question Dr Meyer,” said Harry Patterson?
“sure go ahead,” answered Meyer.
“What in the name of holy fuckery are we up against here Doc, no I mean “really” and you can save the bullshit for the congressional investigation panel so you better start giving “me” some straight answers as of right now and don’t just say “four little bitty kids from Germany cause these four little bitty kids are doin a fuckin number on my guys that would outshine the four horseman of the fucking apocalypse.”
Dr Meyer paused, took off his glasses and then looking Colonel Patterson right in the eye he said, “if I’m being perfectly honest Colonel,” Meyer paused again then after replacing the glasses on his head he sighed heavily and said, “The truth of it is I really don’t know.”


Shortly after that brief outburst in the DOD, Colonel Harry Patterson along with Richard Cohen and of course Dr Henry Meyer boarded a government C-20 from Andrews air force base bound for Billings Montana.
During the four hour flight Harry Patterson, using the jet’s satellite phone gave the president a full briefing of what had happened up there at Wolf Point

11

Needless to say the Commander in chief was mortified when he had heard of the two pilot fatalities and had assured Patterson he had all the means necessary at his disposal.
Shortly after finishing the call with the Whitehouse, the Colonel made a few more calls, most of these were to his subordinate’s regarding the Quads whereabouts and after putting the phone down he turned to face Cohen and Meyer.
“Well gentlemen seems we have us a very serious situation and I can’t begin to tell you the ramifications of what’ll happen if the kids from Hell get to the Canadian border.”
He glanced at Cohen, “I take it you’ve extended the “containment” area and I say that word fucking loosely gentlemen given the fact we’ve just lost a squad of US rangers as well as two experienced pilots, not counting the ten million bucks worth of hardware.”
Richard Cohen politely raised his hand in the air and then spoke.
“With all due respect Colonel, we at homeland security aren’t really equipped to deal with something like this and on this scale, you also said yourself these aren’t ordinary kids and I honestly believe the only people capable of dealing effectively with this situation is Dr Henry Meyer and his team.”
Patterson stared long and hard at the head of homeland security and suddenly developed a new found respect for Richard Cohen, that still didn’t take away the fact he was a slimy loathsome motherfucker who had to be watched real close, yes sir, thought Patterson, this dude was the kind of guy who’d put a pillow over his grandmothers face if he thought it would enhance his position in life.
Patterson had seen men like Cohen before, these fuckers weren’t born and raised like you or I they were hatched and then specially bred at places like fucking Harvard and Yale, “yep” concluded Colonel Harry Patterson this fool was one dangerous fucking honky mother.
The Colonel then turned his eyes to “the” man he truly believed was responsible for what seemed like the mother of all impending Shit storms.
“Mr Cohen does have a valid point and that’s why I firmly believe the next play should come from “you” Dr Meyer and the plan I had in mind kinda has the personal touch, if you dig what I’m saying?”
Dr Henry Meyer didn’t dig anything and he really wished Black Americans would stop talking in the stereotypical street vernacular, even a five star Colonel in the US military.
“I errrm, don’t think I really understand what you mean by “the personal touch,” replied Dr Meyer.
“Oh really,” said Patterson, “Well then let me please enlighten you on what I have in mind Dr Meyer.”
Although at that point Patterson was flashing one of his famous “Colgate smiles” the good Doctor wasn’t, indeed, the expression on Henry Meyers face was akin to someone suddenly being told you had a week to live due to a particularly virulent form of stomach cancer, because he now realised what the colonel had in mind by the word “personal.”

12

As soon as the missiles had been dispatched and with such deadly consequences, the Kreutz children again after linking hands set off in a straight line towards the nearby tiny hamlet of Wolf Point.
It didn’t take long for the children to find what they were looking for, on approaching the general store all four kids sensed that there wasn’t any impending danger and that meant of course there wasn’t any human presence, however there was one life form around and it now headed toward the quads, head bowed and growling.
The large golden retriever had obviously been left behind to guard the store due to the swift evacuation process, the owners, not willing to take any chances with prospective looters had left the large golden coloured canine to hold the fort.
As the large store protector slowly inched forward toward the four waiting children hair bristling and growling even louder now, another quite incredible moment came to pass.
Instantly all four Kreutz kids, as one dropped to the floor with outstretched arms and the large golden retriever stopped growling, looking rather puzzled the big hound ambled slowly over to where the crouching children were now positioned and noticeably, instead of it’s tale being rigid and straight, it was now wagging furiously as well as vigorously licking all four siblings as if they’d been made of aniseed.
Then an even more astounding event happened.
Gently holding the big mutt’s head in both her hands Greta slowly placed her forehead against the retriever’s warm soft head, nothing happened at first and then suddenly the big dog sprang back, sat down on his haunches and stared directly at the four children, it then began to mewl, punctuated with intermittent yaps.
Yes, incredibly enough the Kreutz quads had probably become the first human beings on the planet to actually converse with another species apart from our own and the big retriever was lapping it up, although Greta and the other three siblings were communicating telepathically, the Golden retriever who’s name incidentally was Bob wasn’t and Bob had a lot to say for himself.
Shortly after that pivotal first contact Bob told, yes told the four Kreutz children where all the food was, he then informed them where “his food was stored as well.
As soon they were all suitably fed and watered and the children had managed to find some change of clothing, luckily for them, the Henderson’s who incidentally owned the store had given birth to six children of mixed gender and because clothing always reminded Mrs Henderson of her children’s earlier years, had kept quite a large stockpile starting from birth right up until they split the nest.
As the quads were about to leave the Henderson store she along with her three brothers turned to say goodbye to Bob.
Stooping down, all four kids thanked Bob for everything and when they got back home, that’s if the nasty army men didn’t stop them from doing so, they would try to send him something to let him know they had arrived ok.
Bob started to mewl again but this time he was crying, he told the Kreutz’s that he didn’t want to leave them after all they had been through and that if they wanted, he would accompany them on this what sounded like a perilous journey.

13

Greta softly told Bob that it was far too dangerous and that his place was here, that Bob was already home and one of the reasons that his owners weren’t here was probably down to them, so after four big hugs and a barrage of excited barking, these four amazing children bade goodbye and started off toward what they hoped was a country called Canada and freedom.
As soon they had rounded a bend on the highway, a rather nervous solitary figure came walking towards them, it was then the figure spoke.
“ Hiya kids, remember me?”


The Abbey of Montecassino, Cassino, Italy

Brother Antonia Mantaria looked out of a small window inside his quite austere living quarters.
The view outside, as always was too beautiful for words.
Perched high on a hill, the famous old abbey looked down onto the sprawling white walled, red Umbrian tiled rooftops of the town of Cassino.
Further afield depending in which direction you looked was, in the north, the distant snow capped mountains of the Monti Della Meta and to the south east lay a blue shimmering ribbon which was the Mediterranean sea.
Brother Mantaria pulled back the hood of his Cassock and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply he drew in the sweet rose scented air and immediately thanked the Lord God Almighty for everything he was about to receive that day and in the same breath thanked God for the honour of serving the Holy Father and indeed for the sacred quest he was about to embark on.
Brother Antonia reached down toward the small wooden box in front of him, taking the lid off he re checked all the contents.
One Passport, one economy class return ticket to Billings Montana via Chicago, one thousand American dollars and last but not least the sacred cross.
Gently and still with a sense of reverence Brother Antonia placed his fingers around the ancient seven inch crucifix and slowly raised it to his lips.
“You may put it on now, you know you’re going to have to at some stage my son.” Antonia jumped he hadn’t noticed anyone there; he’d been so wrapped up in the actual realisation of what he was about to undertake.
The Abbot of Montecassino walked slowly over to where Brother Antonia was now standing, gently placing his left hand on Antonia’s right shoulder and then with his right he tenderly lifted Antonia’s chin upwards so the brother’s gaze met the Abbot’s.
Father Abbot Catagalani then spoke softly.

14

“ Do not be afraid my son, for the Lord God almighty also walks this path you have chosen to take and like all the rest of his loyal flock he will protect and guide you.”
Brother Antonia smiled back and then said, “Don’t worry father Abbot, I have no doubt and I know my faith will protect me, I also fully understand that what has to be done has to be done, there is one thing though?”
Father Abbot Catagalani although still smiling, slightly furrowed his brow in a sort of mock consternation and then replying said,
“Oh and what would that be my brave Brother?”
Antonia’s gaze momentarily left the Abbot’s and landed on the old brass crucifix he was still clutching and then he looked again into the Abbot’s unwavering gaze.
“I know we’ve been through everything, you know, the scriptures, the prophecy and everything else but,”
“Go on,” prompted Father Abbot Catagalani.
Brother Antonia paused for a few more seconds and then said.
“What happens when I meet them, what happens when I finally come face with the children of the one God cast from heaven, Father Abbot?”
Father Abbot Catagalani immediately grasped hold of both of Antonia’s shoulders and with another reassuring smile glanced in the direction of the old crucifix and said.
“Have no fear child, “he” will tell you what you have to do when the time comes, of that you can be assured.”

Twenty-four hours later a rather dishevelled and slightly jet-lagged Monk from the Abbey of Montecassino landed at Billings international airport.
Shortly after clearing customs and immigration Brother Antonia Mantaria checked himself into a travel lodge motel and also made arrangements for a hire car.
As soon as Antonia had made himself comfortable, using the motel room phone he made a long distance call.
Again with further reassurances from Father Abbot Catagalani, Brother Antonia formulated a plan as to how he would find the four children of the apocalypse.
He knew from the Monasteries spies or supporters, as Father Catagalani preferred to call them, that there had been some military activity up in a place called Binggs and according to an inside source, that location seemed to be where the American scientists were holding “The Four.”
Antonia pulled out a map that was near to him and studied the terrain, apparently again according to certain sources, there had been a 26 km exclusion zone set up around this base thus all roads would inevitably be blocked, so how in the world was he expected to even get near to the target in hand, it was at that point the phone in the motel room rang.

15

6am the following day and on exiting a large black SUV he just stared in stunned silence.
“Do you really expect me to go up in the air in “that,” cried an utterly astounded Brother Antonia?
The phone call to the motel room was from Brother Trevor Grishom, who hailed from one of the many Benedictine orders scattered about the United States and Canada.
Brother Trevor had already foreseen the problems caused by the Homeland security exclusion zone and as such had made suitable alternative arrangements.
“Ain’t she beautiful,” shouted a beaming Brother Trevor, I’d go up in her myself if I could,” continued the elated Brother.
Brother Antonia walked slowly toward the huge hot air balloon that sat directly in front of him.
The huge billowing canopy was attached to a two-metre square wicker basket by four long thick guide ropes, inside the basket was a square metal frame and fitted to the middle of the frame were two burner jets.
Brother Trevor made a whooping sound akin to that of a Native American and subsequently leapt into the basket, making a beckoning motion he signalled to brother Trevor to join him. A little hesitant at first and with understandable trepidation the young Benedictine monk edged ever nearer towards the now rocking basket.
“Perfect,” shouted Brother Trevor as he put a forefinger in his mouth and then stuck it up in the air.
“We have ourselves a prevailing wind and according to this,” he showed Brother Antonia a small dial along with a series of other similar dials attached to the bottom of the steel frame, “it’s a nice steady 10 knots, which is terrific for a novice like yourself, no offence.”
“Non taken,” replied Brother Antonia, almost mechanically as he slowly, bit by bit stepped into the hot air balloon basket.
As soon Antonia had crept into the basket, Brother Trevor leapt out, thrusting a ordinance survey map into Antonia’s hand Brother Trevor turned and pointed to a large metal lever situated near the instrument dials. “See that lever?”
Antonia nodded, “well turn it clockwise,” instructed Brother Trevor, Antonia did as he was told and as soon as he turned the dial clockwise a huge orange flame jetted upwards and into the canopy.
Brother Antonia leapt backwards in surprise and Brother Trevor hollered, “Whoa there Nelly, nice and easy.
To operate one a these things is real easy, look,” he made a turning motion with his left hand and said.
“Clockwise the flames fire up and “you” go up, no flame and “you” go down and don’t worry it’ll be a slow decent, believe it or not” and he waved upwards at the balloon envelope, “these things are a lot safer than aeroplanes,” at that point Brother Trevor motioned at the map Brother Antonia was clutching to his chest and said.

16


“I’ve circled where you need to come down, once you see the bridge you’ll see a small collection of buildings to the right of it, that’s Wolf Point, the kids were last seen heading north from there, probably toward Canada.” Brother Trevor then grabbed hold of a large rucksack and placed it inside the basket.
“You better check everything’s there,” said Brother Trevor and he pointed at the rucksack. Brother Antonia kneeled down and swiftly inspected the contents, noting everything was in order he turned to inform Brother Trevor he had everything he needed.
Brother Antonia nearly fainted, as he was inspecting the rucksack he hadn’t noticed Brother Trevor sneakily cutting the anchor lines that were holding the huge balloon in place.
“Holy Mother of God,” cried Brother Antonia, he must have already reached a hundred metres above the ground.
A voice shrilled up from below, “don’t worry Brother Antonia, you’ll be fine and remember, clockwise is up, may the Lord God be with you.”
Antonia hadn’t heard the last bit, he was too busy praying.
Five minutes later and on finally daring to open his eyes, Brother Antonia decided he had to be brave; he “was” on the ultimate quest when all said and done.
Still in the kneeling position he slowly peeked out and over the edge of the basket.
Instantly a wave of nausea swept over the young Benedictine monk thus immediately retracting back into the basket not dissimilar to a startled Tortoise.
Eventually the intrepid monk finally found the fortitude needed to get through his crippling fear of heights, holding the cross of St Benedict close to his heart, Brother Antonia started to chant the words to psalm 23.

“The lord is my shepherd I shall not want.
He maketh me lie down in green pastures, he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul he leadeth me in paths of righteousness for his names sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will feel no evil, for though art with me,
Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”


After finishing the rest of the psalm Brother Antonia suddenly felt a whole lot better and armed with the knowledge and the fact that God was with him 100% on this venture, almost with relish he stood up, looked at the map and then stared down at what must have been a thousand metres between him and the ground.
Turning to the large metal lever, Brother Antonia grasped hold of it and with a whoop of delight a huge burst of flame erupted out of the propane cylinders and with what seemed like being inside a high speed elevator the huge balloon rocketed upwards to a dizzying 2,000 metres.

17


The Abbey of Montecassino, Cassino, Italy

Shortly after evensong, Father Abbot Catagalani retired to his quarters.
Extracting a large book off one of the many shelves he blew away any excess dust and after pouring a drop of his favourite home-made mead he settled himself down to re think the latest events regarding the Doomsday quest.
Opening page 16 of the ancient tome he silently perused the doomsday prophecies and how they would come to pass. Catagalani suddenly chuckled to himself, reading through the page he wondered what Nostradamus himself would have given for a peek at this priceless collection of scriptures, indeed, word had it this particular book was older than Benedict himself.
There where a lot of prophecy’s indicating when the world would end and most people didn’t take any of them seriously, but the one prophecy that had been kept away and out of sight from the rest of mankind was this one.
“EA QUATTUOR” loosely translated; in English it meant “The Four.”
The rest of the prophecy told of a second coming, though not by Jesus Christ, but of the Dark Angel’s spawn. The Devil, Lucifer, Hob, there are many many names describing and pertaining to “the one who was cast out.”
Reading through the very old scribes the prophecy indicated there would be a catastrophic ending to the world that the Holy Father had created and only “The Four” would be left to inherit, quite literally, a new Hell on earth.
The prophecy went on to say there was only one possible way to prevent the impending Armageddon and that was, using the sacred cross of Christ the St. Benedict, a monk, pure of faith and pure of body along with an unbroken line of ancestry linking directly to St. Benedict himself had to confront and purge the four demon spawn from the earth.
That was of course Brother Antonia, but what Father Abbot hadn’t told Brother Antonia was, this was a one-way trip!
The prophecy also told of an apocalyptic style confrontation of which there would be “no” survivors, Catagalani wasn’t sure whether that meant the four children and poor Brother Antonia or indeed the whole planet.
Catagalani pushed back in the large leather chair and sighed audibly, keeping this kind of secret from the rest of the world had indeed been a very heavy burden to take, but one that the order of Benedictine monks had been proud to have undertaken through out the centuries and now like everything else, it looked like the stage was set and the final curtain was about to descend.
Father Abbot Catagalani raised his pewter tankard of mead and making a toast, he said. “God speed my brave young knight and may God, the father and the Holy Ghost have mercy on all our souls.
Just at that moment a telephone rang and the Abbot swiftly picked it up.
The voice on the other end was Brother Trevor and after quickly updating Catagalani regarding brother Antonia and the hot air Balloon, Catagalani hung up.
“So,” said Father Abbot Catagalani, to no one in particular, “like Caesar in the coliseum of Ancient Rome, “let the games begin.”

18

All four children froze at the sight in front of them.
Dr Henry Meyer also stopped; both parties were roughly fifty feet away from each other and there followed a sort of uneasy stand off.
Henry Meyer made the first call.
“Look kids, this has gotton a little out of hand I know, but it’s nothing that can’t be resolved peaceably, what do you say?”
Dr Meyer, under instructions from Colonel Patterson, though he really didn’t want to, edged ever nearer toward the four Kreutz kids.
The idea being as soon as the doctor had gained the children’s trust he would, using a high-powered pistol secreted in the Doctor’s rear waistband, shoot all four quads with extremely powerful tranquilliser darts.
After that I’m afraid it would be a cremation chamber, there was to be no traces of these four unfortunate children, indeed as of yesterday Project Pandora had been abandoned and the cremation chambers that would soon be introduced to the quads had already been working overtime with all the original inhabitants at the J Robert Oppenhiemer facility. Nearer and nearer thought Henry, just need to get close enough, there couldn’t be any room for failure and when he was right up to the little darlings *BAM* and then at last they could put a lid on this whole affair and Meyer was sure the military had lots of other weird and wonderful projects he could get his hands on.
Dr Henry Meyer was only six feet away now and he continued to “think” how he was going to dispatch all four kids, indeed, Meyer smugly thought to himself, you could use all the military muscle you liked, but at the end of the day brains” were always superior to brawn.
However what Dr Henry Meyer didn’t know was, all four Kreutz kids were telepaths and the thoughts Meyer were “thinking” may just have well have been broadcast on a megaphone.
Three feet now and as Dr Meyer continued to sooth and reassure the Kreutz children everything was all right, all four quads just watched, totally motionless and all four pairs of eyes locked on the approaching scientist.
Then Meyer, still “thinking” and deciding he was now near enough, quickly reached round to his waistband for the powerful stun gun.
However, Dr Henry Meyer when all said and done, was a scientist not a professional assassin and in his haste to grab the gun handle he inadvertently knocked the weapon out of his pants and onto the blacktop highway.
Meyer gasped in horror and looking at the offending pistol cried out. “Kids it’s not what you really think, “they” made me do it,” as he screamed those words he jabbed a finger in the opposite direction and carried on pleading, “them” I tell you, they used me to get to you, just like they used “you.”
Meyer glanced in the direction of the gun again; it was only a couple of feet away, maybe just maybe?
WHAM!! the gun disappeared, it was as if some giant had run up to it and with an almighty kick, booted the stun gun as hard as it could.

19


Dr Meyer just gaped in utter amazement as the stun gun disappeared into a tiny speck on the horizon.
Henry Meyer tried to run, but he couldn’t, the kids wouldn’t allow it and as what seemed like some irresistible crushing force rooted Meyer to the spot, Greta slowly advanced toward the now terrified Doctor.
After being allowed to sink to his knees as well as the fact he would be at the same level as Greta, the only female member of “the four” gently placed her left hand on the Doctor’s forehead and Dr Henry Meyer not only surrendered his life he also surrendered his very soul.

Fort Bellknap, US Army command post, 15 miles from the Canadian border

“Well?” said Colonel Harry Patterson.
An operator wearing headphones opposite responded.
“Nothing sir, signal isn’t responding and according to SVTS (Satellite visual tracking systems) the four subjects have carried on heading toward the border area, just a minute sir something else coming in now.”
Colonel Patterson glimpsed over toward where Richard Cohen was seated, "he" was looking at his nails.
Unbelievable, thought Patterson, Cohen was either the world’s coolest spook, or he was one cunning opportunist motherfucker, just waiting for "him" Patterson as well as Meyer to bite the fucking dust, which according to the satellite guys is what just happened to Meyer.
“I wonder what they did to him sir?”
Said Cohen, incredibly still admiring his recent manicure.
The Colonel swiftly replied, “Well if it’s anything like what they found at Binggs, the poor fucker’s had his brains sucked out.”
This was the first time that Richard Cohen had known what the Kreutz children had actually done to General Sandler and a smiling Harry Patterson knew this.
Needless to say, the head of homeland security had now given his undivided attention to the man in charge.
“ I really think it’s time we laid all our cards on the God damn table Richard,” announced the Colonel.
The head of homeland security didn’t like the way his boss referred to him as Richard that meant familiarity, which meant personal involvement and if the last case scenario was anything to go by, well?
A still smiling Colonel Patterson was enjoying seeing the look on Cohen’s face, even given the serious nature of what was going on, watching the slimy fucker squirm almost gave him wood.

20


“No need to worry Cohen you ain’t goin out there on your lonesome, I’ll be with you every step of the way, not sure why, cause every movie I’ve ever seen it’s always the Brother that gets killed or fuckin eaten first.”
There were a few suppressed guffaws around the command centre, though with one noticeable absentee.
Richard Cohen was mortified, this wasn’t what he signed up for, they never told him this at Yale, that he’d be out in the field, dealing with the devil’s fucking children, getting your brains sucked out, what in the fuck was all that about?
Just as Richard Cohen was battling his own demons before it was highly likely he’d meet some in real life, a call came through from the operators.
“We got us a bogey sir, bearing 25º north and 30º east.”
“Which is?” said an impatient Colonel with outstretched hands.
“Well sir,” said a nervous radar operator, it’s kinda heading in the same direction as those kids.”
“Do “we” know what “it” is,” said an increasingly pissed Colonel, he didn’t like the idea of any unidentified fucking objects crashing his party.
The radar operator slowly and cautiously replied and said.
“Errrm, it’s a balloon sir, a hot air balloon.”

Brother Antonia had really gotten the hang of this now and had long since vanquished his fear of heights.
He’d spotted the bridge and had now begun the decent into the target area.
Antonia’s stomach knotted a little, possibly in anticipation of the long awaited confrontation, but knowing God was with him all the way gave him sustenance.
Then the helicopter appeared. It came out of nowhere, a large black contraption, not dissimilar to a large angry looking wasp.
The machine buzzed around the balloon and then a man suddenly appeared in one of the sliding doors, holding what looked like a large megaphone.
He then started to speak through it.
“Give me the thumbs up if you hear and understand?”
Antonia had been warned by Brother Trevor this might happen, “just play dumb,” said Brother Trevor, “just tell em you’re on a quest to seek absolution and being thousands of feet in the air was as close to God you were ever gonna get while still breathing.”
Brother Antonia gave the thumbs up sign and then the man with the megaphone spoke again.
“You have entered a restricted area and you must put down immediately, failure to comply will be met with zero tolerance, do you understand?”
Brother Antonia had little choice in the matter, the helicopter was of the military type and as such was armed, he couldn’t outrun it and he couldn’t fight it, so the only logical thing to do was explain to whoever was in command what he was actually trying to do and hope they understood.

21

Fort Bellknap, two hours later

Colonel Harry Patterson was wearing the same expression as you would have if you’d suddenly been told your winning lotto ticket had the correct winning numbers but the wrong day.
He continued to stare at the young Benedictine monk.
“ So let’s just go through this one more time, cause you see I stopped believing in fucking fairy tales after middle school, you feeling me boy?”
Brother Antonia was in shock; with living constantly inside the protective walls of the Abbey he’d never been subjected to the kind of profanity that was now spewing from this large black man’s mouth.
“It is the truth sir,” answered Brother Antonia, he continued on.
“You have to let me confront those Devil’s, if you don’t it will be too late for all of us.” Harry Patterson just continued to stare and shake his head, then he spoke up.
“If and believe you me this is a fucking big if, I were to let you lose on those four little fuckers, what in the hell is it that you can do that two F/A18s and squad of rangers couldn’t?”
At that point the Colonel walked over to towards Brother Antonia and slowly, looked him up and down from head to toe.
“I’m waiting,” pressed Patterson.
Brother Antonia produced the crucifix of Christ the St. Benedict and slowly holding it aloft for all to see, he said.
“I bear the ultimate weapon, the Lord’s will and my faith are all that’s needed to defeat EA QUATTOURE.”

Thomas suddenly stopped and then broke off from the rest of the other siblings.
Greta, Karl and Joseph looked on in silence.
Walking over to the side of the black top highway Thomas knelt down and slowly put his fore head to the ground as if he were praying.
After a few seconds Thomas suddenly jolted his head back and screamed!
Still, all this time the other three Kreutz children continued to stare in impassive silence, even when the screaming started.
As sudden as it started, the screaming stopped and Thomas slowly lifted his head up, clutching handfuls of earth, he started to chant in some sort of long forgotten tongue.
Greta along with Karl and Joseph advanced slowly toward the still chanting Thomas, all four Kreutz children then linked hands and all four children were now chanting as one in complete unison and the chanting steadily increased both in volume and intensity.

22

While all this was happening on the ground, what was previously a beautifully clear Montana sky had now turned overcast, indeed what seemed like storm clouds had gathered and as the terrible ungodlike chanting increased even further in tempo, lightning bolts suddenly appeared, first one then two and then they were everywhere.
To anyone witnessing this unholy scene, would have seen four very scary looking children all joining hands and what was particularly terrifying?
The children’s appearance was changing, they were changing; it was as if they were passing through some form of metamorphosis.
All the blond hair had gone, what was skin had now turned to scales and both hands and feet had become claw like, but the thing that really set these children apart in the shock factor were “the eyes.”
Well the thing was, there weren’t any eyes there, just narrow slits and as black as night, a truly horrifying spectacle.
The chanting suddenly stopped and the lightning subsided, unclasping hands the four, well, what were children all crouched down in a sort of heightened state of alert, a kind of hissing sound emanated from their mouths accompanied with a horrible snake like tongue flicking in and out, it seemed like the four were communicating with each other, audibly though this time not telepathically.
Suddenly in a sort of knowing, purposeful look, all four once children bounded off to all four points of the compass and at an alarming rate of knots.
A look of dread filled Brother Antonia’s eyes as he looked out of the command station window.
He swiftly turned to Colonel Patterson and said, “NOW do believe me Colonel?”
Harry Patterson shrugged his shoulders and flippantly said, “it’s only a cloud burst pal, ain’t nothing to worry your little head about.
A determined Brother Antonia strode over to where the Colonel was and said, “oh really sir, have you looked outside Colonel?”
Harry Patterson groaned audibly and rudely pushing Antonia to one side, strode toward the window. “Well fuck me sideways, ain’t that a sumbitch.”
Patterson was awestruck; he’d never quite seen anything like what he was seeing now.
The sky had gone all weird looking, like it was on fire or something and it felt like someone had just turned the heat up by about 30°.
“What in the fuck is going on?”
Cried a quite stupefied Colonel Harry Patterson.
“It’s started,” murmured Brother Antonia.
“What’s fuckin started,” cried Patterson.
“The joining,” Brother Antonia carried on. “The four have been in contact with the fallen one and I’m afraid they now know who they really are and if you think they were dangerous before, well” and Antonia joined Patterson at the window, “well now they’re unstoppable and I’m afraid it’s all too late, for all of us, the apocalypse is upon us.

23


THE CONCLUSION


Brother Antonia was in fact quite correct and even if he had been able to confront EA QUATTOURE he probably wouldn’t have been able stop them.
The four had not only morphed into demon kind as their birthright foretold, they had also physically grown to full size.
Nothing could stop them.
As each demon child had headed for the four points of the compass, devastation ensued, no amount of man-made force could halt their plans for absolute rule and it only became a matter of time before and in one last desperate attempt to stop the four, man used nuclear weapons.
All this did was speed up the process of Armageddon.
And so it came to pass, as the prophecy correctly foretold, all four (ONCE) children, triumphant and now supreme rulers of a brand new “Hell on Earth.”
Man had initially presumed the reasons for this cataclysmic end had been due to the experiments at the base, opening up Pandora’s box so to speak.
Abducting children and then performing ghastly experiments on them and all in the name of science, was I suppose only ever going to end badly.
However out of all the one in a million super kids that were used as guinea pigs, these children were “always” going to do what they were destined to do, no matter what.
The only possible hope lay with the monks of Montecassino, however even though they had been closely tracking the kreutz children, as soon as the abduction happened, courtesy of Project Pandora, they of course disappeared off the radar and thus robbing the Benedictine order of Montecassino their only chance of preventing the inexorable conclusion.

Picture this?

The sky is on fire, the world is burning and there are scenes of utter devastation everywhere.
Walking slowly toward me are four huge figures, covered in orange coloured scales and horrible black slits that pass for eyes.
I stand there, rooted to the spot in terror and as the four horrific looking creatures get nearer and nearer I can actually see forked tongues flicking out of what I suppose you could call mouths.
Closer and closer until finally, a crushing force pushes me into the kneeling position, looking up, one of the creature’s leans toward me and reaching slowly forward, it places a claw like hand on my forehead and I scream, !!!!AARRRGH!!!!


THE END