The Repulsion of Merced
(Forward) Only in ancient manuscripts can the word Cthulhu be found, meaning ‘horror of the horrors.’ A horror that numbs you, one that defies even God and His mercy; the decipherment of the word can entangle both the pawn and the prey, it reduces human existence to a weak and stale plight. Thus, in this following story, one that is based on fact (and considered by the author as historical fiction, since he has added his own descriptiveness to the account, and his own adjectives, that in which he feels belong to the story), that took place in November, of 2008; we will see a jealous mindless monster in motion, and the pawn will be devoured (names have been changed).
(Andahuaylas)
I will tell you of Naomi, She left Andahuaylas, Peru, in the Andes crossing into the Montero Valley and Huancayo, on the 3rd of November, 2008, on her way to La Merced (a place I had been through a few times onto Villa Rica and Danced with the local residents in parade). You have heard such stories of horror in bits and pieces, I am sure, as you are about to hear now, where demonic things crawl in the night to do hideous works for hell, but man and woman have their own hell, besides hell chasing them with hell’s demons, but here is man’s own evil substance at work, no need for Satan to interfere of what truth is or isn’t, for it will not matter, especially when lost in rage—and in this story it gets lost in a passive internal rage, it passes by all reasoning and logical sense, dwells circling the walls of limbo, quietness forgotten, jealousy takes over, this was Naomi’s fate, and peril.
As she reached her destination (having taken a bus), to the city called La Merced, in the central jungle of Peru, near Satipo, she went to live with her half sister and brother-in-law.
She stood at the door knocked, as a man slowly opened the door, and with long paraded glimpses stared at her as if in trance, eyeing her from heel to the top of her head. She stood back, shadow-like against the sky.
“I’m Naomi,” she said, thinking maybe this is Laura’s husband, Cesar had forgotten what she looked like (they had not seen one another in a number of years, and she had come down to the rain forest area to work in the fields).
He then asked her in, as glittering visions and the pageantry of glory filled his inners, as if her smile had given him hope for future advancements on her. In his mind, it was not of the drab day to day life he’d have to expect from life this specific day forward, it would be a new adventure, he told himself, and a gleam set into his mind the wheels of motion to pursue this young lady, and this is exactly what he’d do in the next few weeks, he had new intentions.
After the greetings were said and done, and Naomi got her private room, Laura noticed at the dinner table the first night, the very first evening, her husband had faint like glimpses toward her sister (half-sister that is, both Laura, the elder and Naomi younger, had the same mother, although different fathers); as I was about to say, these glimpses were not unnoticed.
And so during the following week, Laura put on an invisible mask, to hide her jealousy, not that her sister was feeding into her husband’s scheme, but jealous manifestations of that illusion entangled her imagination to think so (but fundamentally it was not true).
It was during the second week, towards the end of it, that Laura could not bridge the gulf of evil she had created towards Naomi, awful blackness numbed her heart, her unstable mind, and her spirit, soul and ego, all spinning, shaking her every bone, behind the shape of her fleshly body, for once and for all to settle this account with the black winged creature who came to subdue her husband—Naomi.
She, Laura, was lovingly foolish, insecure with fear of losing her husband, burning like lit firewood in a hearth throughout her being, pulling at her hair when alone in a private room, until the roots gave in, and dropped out. It would have seemed she was not a product of today’s ultimate civilization, of the primitive primates of the Stone Age, soon to have a dim and un-guessed future.
Oh, far, far and far off was her mind this night, when she woke up in the wee hours, took a slug hammer, red-eyed, with a slayers heart, drifting she crept into Naomi’s room, in causal reality, she bent over the bed, lurked with her distorted mind onto the face of her sister, and here is where the story unfolds: she produced in her cerebellum a pointless chaos, horrifically primordial and beast-haunted, recognized the mark she was going to strike, and like a great wind, she struck her younger sister in the head, forehead, temple, nose, she struck several times, bone breaking blows, cracking open her head like an shattered egg, and sent her into a dark form of existence.
The following day Naomi died, driven only by some restless whim to show her sister she would not die at once but would live a few hours more to condemn her, against all cosmic laws she opened her eyes; consequently, she left this world not like a crushed worm, but rather, spawning for a moment of renewed life, and principle.
Written 11-16-2008, after reading a report in the Correo Newspaper, Huancayo, Peru, the author was inspired to write in part, of its actual events… considered historical fiction—of the account, and murder of? Reedited 4-27-2010
(Forward) Only in ancient manuscripts can the word Cthulhu be found, meaning ‘horror of the horrors.’ A horror that numbs you, one that defies even God and His mercy; the decipherment of the word can entangle both the pawn and the prey, it reduces human existence to a weak and stale plight. Thus, in this following story, one that is based on fact (and considered by the author as historical fiction, since he has added his own descriptiveness to the account, and his own adjectives, that in which he feels belong to the story), that took place in November, of 2008; we will see a jealous mindless monster in motion, and the pawn will be devoured (names have been changed).
(Andahuaylas)
I will tell you of Naomi, She left Andahuaylas, Peru, in the Andes crossing into the Montero Valley and Huancayo, on the 3rd of November, 2008, on her way to La Merced (a place I had been through a few times onto Villa Rica and Danced with the local residents in parade). You have heard such stories of horror in bits and pieces, I am sure, as you are about to hear now, where demonic things crawl in the night to do hideous works for hell, but man and woman have their own hell, besides hell chasing them with hell’s demons, but here is man’s own evil substance at work, no need for Satan to interfere of what truth is or isn’t, for it will not matter, especially when lost in rage—and in this story it gets lost in a passive internal rage, it passes by all reasoning and logical sense, dwells circling the walls of limbo, quietness forgotten, jealousy takes over, this was Naomi’s fate, and peril.
As she reached her destination (having taken a bus), to the city called La Merced, in the central jungle of Peru, near Satipo, she went to live with her half sister and brother-in-law.
She stood at the door knocked, as a man slowly opened the door, and with long paraded glimpses stared at her as if in trance, eyeing her from heel to the top of her head. She stood back, shadow-like against the sky.
“I’m Naomi,” she said, thinking maybe this is Laura’s husband, Cesar had forgotten what she looked like (they had not seen one another in a number of years, and she had come down to the rain forest area to work in the fields).
He then asked her in, as glittering visions and the pageantry of glory filled his inners, as if her smile had given him hope for future advancements on her. In his mind, it was not of the drab day to day life he’d have to expect from life this specific day forward, it would be a new adventure, he told himself, and a gleam set into his mind the wheels of motion to pursue this young lady, and this is exactly what he’d do in the next few weeks, he had new intentions.
After the greetings were said and done, and Naomi got her private room, Laura noticed at the dinner table the first night, the very first evening, her husband had faint like glimpses toward her sister (half-sister that is, both Laura, the elder and Naomi younger, had the same mother, although different fathers); as I was about to say, these glimpses were not unnoticed.
And so during the following week, Laura put on an invisible mask, to hide her jealousy, not that her sister was feeding into her husband’s scheme, but jealous manifestations of that illusion entangled her imagination to think so (but fundamentally it was not true).
It was during the second week, towards the end of it, that Laura could not bridge the gulf of evil she had created towards Naomi, awful blackness numbed her heart, her unstable mind, and her spirit, soul and ego, all spinning, shaking her every bone, behind the shape of her fleshly body, for once and for all to settle this account with the black winged creature who came to subdue her husband—Naomi.
She, Laura, was lovingly foolish, insecure with fear of losing her husband, burning like lit firewood in a hearth throughout her being, pulling at her hair when alone in a private room, until the roots gave in, and dropped out. It would have seemed she was not a product of today’s ultimate civilization, of the primitive primates of the Stone Age, soon to have a dim and un-guessed future.
Oh, far, far and far off was her mind this night, when she woke up in the wee hours, took a slug hammer, red-eyed, with a slayers heart, drifting she crept into Naomi’s room, in causal reality, she bent over the bed, lurked with her distorted mind onto the face of her sister, and here is where the story unfolds: she produced in her cerebellum a pointless chaos, horrifically primordial and beast-haunted, recognized the mark she was going to strike, and like a great wind, she struck her younger sister in the head, forehead, temple, nose, she struck several times, bone breaking blows, cracking open her head like an shattered egg, and sent her into a dark form of existence.
The following day Naomi died, driven only by some restless whim to show her sister she would not die at once but would live a few hours more to condemn her, against all cosmic laws she opened her eyes; consequently, she left this world not like a crushed worm, but rather, spawning for a moment of renewed life, and principle.
Written 11-16-2008, after reading a report in the Correo Newspaper, Huancayo, Peru, the author was inspired to write in part, of its actual events… considered historical fiction—of the account, and murder of? Reedited 4-27-2010
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