IMAGINATION'S PLACE
FICTION
THE BATTLE CONTINUES
By: Speaker Gerald A. Polley
THE ANCIENT ONE was not as weary as he had been other
evenings. Things were going far better than they had been. He had lost
his young travelling companion, however, as she had gone off on her
own, devoting all her energies in solving the problems of her physical
form, and The Ancient One rather
missed her.
It was a quiet enough night. He had just solved a problem for his alien
friends, who had unknowingly brought a little stowaway to Earth. And
there had been a frantic search to recover it before it was injured or
accidently did some harm. But it had been safely recovered, and all was
well.
Finding nothing of interest to the north, he turned southward. He was
about to head north again, when a sudden chorus of cries from below
caught
his ear. Folding back his wings he dove Earthward, and several dozen
Spirits
of varying ages rose to greet him. He patiently listened to their tales
of
horror, and then descended to the city below.
It was a simple enough matter, the Spirits, themselves, had the answer.
The gang that had murdered them in their sadistic ceremonies was
already
suspected by the local authorities. It as a simple matter of giving one
police
officer the final push to make an arrest....an arrest of one of the
group's
weakest members who, under pressure, would expose everything.
The Ancient One looked in the policeman's office and came up behind him
as he did some paperwork. The Ancient One was about to put the proper
thought in his mind, when suddenly he was literally knocked out of the
material
world, into the shadowy realm between it, and the Spiritual World: what
his people referred to as The Veil Of Tears. Stunned, he went to regain
his feet when something hit him again, sending him flying. This time,
however,
he regained his balance before the attacker could strike again.
The Ancient One was not surprised at what he finally saw. It was not
the first time he had been attacked by someone, but it did surprise him
that
this one was not of native origins, but alien, like himself. It stood
about
his own height, and resembled a chicken croquette with twelve legs at
its
bottom, and four tentacle-like arms coming out of its middle. Four eyes
were
on each side of its top and between these, antennas that must've served
the
same function as ears.
The two beings simply circled each other for some time, each measuring
the other. As The Ancient One drew Light, and became stronger, and
brighter, his adversary drew Darkness to protect itself from his
brilliance.
"Go away!" the hideous thing finally cried. "Go away, Lord Of Light
These are mine. They belong to me. It's none of your business. I feed
well, here. I become strong; stronger than you, foolish goody-goody.
You are nothing! Look at how pitiful you are! You have power, you have
strength. You could control, dominate, rule, but you are
coward...afraid. All must come to you of their own will. Lord Of Light
can't dominate, can't rule, can only guide and teach. Stupid! They
laugh at you. They make fun of you. They use you. None laugh at me!
None insult me! I destroy any who will not obey.
Poor little Lord Of Light! Can only do what his Masters wish. Poor,
pitiful little thing! These creatures do not want what YOU have to
offer. They want not peace, harmony, joy, tolerance. They want what I
have to give them.
They want to be strong, to take, to rule, to fulfill all their desires,
no matter what they are, and not worry about others.
Stupid thing! You cannot win. In the end, my kind will succeed. You
will never starve us out, drive us away. For we are stronger. Join me.
Don't
be a fool any more. You can rip out their minds, make them your slaves.
Have them do whatever you want! Don't be weak! Join me!"
"You are not strong!" The Ancient One answered. "Your strength is only
the delusions of your ignorance. Look at you...scarred, covered with
sores, smelling your own filth and the death you must cling to in order
to survive! You are nothing!"
He charged forward, attacking with all his skill; hands, feet, wing
tips, knees....every part of him found a mark. But his adversary did
not yield
either. And for what seemed hours they beat each-other furiously. But
in
the end it was The Lord Of Light that stood, battered and bruised but
victorious, his adversary fleeing to the true night of the Material
World, lay quivering at his feet. The Ancient One knew it would take it
months, perhaps years, to regain enough strength where it could control
minds again. But the battle had drained him, taken virtually all the
strength he had.
"Accept death," said The Ancient One. "I can make a pathway for you to
The Spirit World. Bear your pain. Free yourself from this shadow
existence."
"NO!" the demon cried. "You will not make me surrender in The Eternal
Night! You cannot force me through the barrier. And you do not love me,
so you cannot take me, yourself. I can only go of my own free will, and
I will not! In the end I win., Lord Of Light, and what has this battle
cost
you? How much have you been drained? How much have I delayed your
precious
Mission? You can NEVER win! They WANT the lies. You give them truth and
that
they will never hear. In losing I win. In draining you, I succeed!"
"But you lose your little nest!" The Ancient One snapped. "You will be
fed no more!"
He glanced away to the police officer sitting at his desk and put a
thought in his mind. The police officer picked up a folder and opened
it, tapped
it twice, and picked up the phone. The Ancient One looked back to that
which lay on the ground.
"Damn you!" it cried, "Damn you!"
The Ancient One flew home. To his frustration as he monitored the news,
the gang the demon had controlled was captured, and the horror they had
been committing was exposed, but, their leaders escaped! And in his
weakened
condition The Ancient One couldn't track them down. His spirits were
lifted
however, when he foiled a drug lord's escape attempt on a rare day
flight,
by sticking a tree limb in the tail rotor of his helicoptor. The aliens
returned to annoy him because they needed a treaty negotiated, and he
was
the only one the two parties would listen to. The Ancient One resolved
the
problem, but his frustration at his failure to find and deal with the
two
fugitives left him considerably irritated, and the deomn's words
weighed
heavy on his thoughts...heavy, indeed.
THE END
The preceeding story is fiction. Any resemblence it bears to true persons or places is coincidental, and not the intent of the writer.
JOIN THE BOYCOTT
By; Speaker Gerald A. Polley
I am usually against boycotts because they usually hurt
innocent people's rights along with those you wish to punish. But Exxon
has been
so irresponsible in the recent oil spill they caused, that I really
feel
the public must take action against them to let other companies know
that
this type of laxity is not going to be accepted
We ask all persons if they have Exxon credit cards to cut them up and
return them to the company. If not, simply write a letter letting them
know
you will not be using any Exxon products until 1. The company makes
full
financial restitution for the clean up costs of the disaster they've
caused.
2. Pays local inhabitants for any loss of income due to their
negligence.
Only when these conditions are met should we again do business with
Exxon.
***These magazines are provided free of charge, but any donations to keep our work going would be gratefully appreciated! See our mailing address on the main page of this web site!***