Birthing the Lucifer star

by donna bartley

  Chapter 7, The witness

  Darren Jason had relinquished his will to his assassin in humility and peace, without any regrets. He lay immobile, fixed in the warm sands of the windless noon's haste. He tried to involve himself in the scene but his mind focused on the white beam of light instead. The light separated him from his body, starting small but growing larger as specks of dust danced in its whiteness. He felt like a child, alien and lost in a swirling mass of formless matter. He panicked as he saw another circling mass in the opposite direction, a much larger pattern that would bisect his path somewhere. He was still tainted by his karma but his memory was as clear as the light before him. Lucidity came over him as he started to meditate on the death process, remembering the words of his Blessed and Most Holy Maitreya "Be leery, for your human side cannot help that. But have no fear, for your spiritual side cannot be afflicted."

  He removed the links of chain that kept him grounded to the material world. A strong rapid motion fell across his body and he felt himself sink into the Earth as the Earth dissolved into water. Through currents and tides, he became the child of the day. He saw his surroundings, a deep dark crevice, where he lay on an overhang… He experienced the existence of another child in another part of the world and tasted griddlecakes with maple syrup, and organic orange juice and applesauce. As he passed from the Human Realm into the Animal Realm he saw the cold yellow eyes of a starving dog ready to strike him down. A Native American, in a sheepskin coat stood between them and the hound greeted the Spirit Guide, coming to rest at his feet. As he entered the Hungry Ghost Realm he experienced the pain of social injustice, repression, lack of education, nutrition clothing, a place to sleep, and good health. He felt himself become absorbed by smoke as the Water disseminated into Fire. He was sucked in a vacuum filled with red light into the Hell Realm and felt the absence of happiness. He smelled the sulfur, strong, hot and rank and was overtaken by the shrill, frantic laughter of the lost souls that yapped and strained like wild animals. Fire absorbed into Air as he awoke in the Demigod Realm. He was engulfed by the appearance of darkness and felt as if he was slowly losing consciousness.

  There he was reunited with the spirit of his mentor, Maitreya. "I did you a favor, now you do me one..." He started slowly, an evil smile forming.

  "What?" Darren asked in confusion, looking up at him.

  "Become my pet for eternity." The great serpent whispered hotly in Darren’s ear. His features suddenly grew dark, the look of hunger filling his eyes. Darren didn't have time to re-act... it was too late as the serpent plunged his teeth deep into Darren's neck.

  When he pulled back and looked into Darren’s eyes, he could feel the blood pouring down his neck. He was stunned in place- unable to move- and was beginning to feel faint.

  'How could he do this to me? He promised he never would!' He thought in shock.

  "The choice is yours, love. Live or die?" He whispered, a smirk forming on his blood lined lips.

  "Live..." Darren stammered out the best he could.

  "First you have to die... to live..." He said as Darren's body slowly started its change.

  The pain was immense. His organs were dying and all He could do was lie in the middle of the valley of bones, looking up into the crescent moon as rigor mortis set in. The summer air seemed to have gotten even warmer in the hour's time he'd been out there. He could hear the cry of the banshee; Coyotes howling at the full moon, discarnate’s pushing and shoving against his ghastly form....

  His head spun. His body shook and trembled, as it was devoured by thousands of maggots. As Darren started to change, half man, half beast, he clenched his eyes tightly shut. Upon opening them, he found that he had died and been reborn- the bite was healed.

  The night of his mortal death being etched into his mind for eternity...

  He celebrated life and knowledge and felt compassion for the reptiles he should have feared and hated. He spotted the symbol of the red dragon, and consciously followed it through the Bar do. The demigods felt jealousy and desperation at his resolve as Air passed into Consciousness. He looked up, down and around himself and saw his body of blood, skin, bowls, and bones become a memory. A strange sensation touched his soul, as he became seepage of moisture again, somewhere between Earth and Water, a place of Rebirth...

  In the Foothills of Rattle snake Butte, a baby is born to the Lakota people. The Chief draws blood symbols in the entrance of a sacred cave as part of an arcane celebration. A bright white light fills the region, slowly turning to an iridescent glow. Fish become abundant and are visible to the naked eye like crisp white stones. The sick are healed, the dying find renewed life as a network of intuitions become one among the cries of a newborn, white buffalo calf.

  In the Bad Lands an unusual light fills the dark night sky. People who witness it become blind. Suffering and violence violate with affected easiness. War in all its rigidity furiously attacks all logic. A child is born from an unclean creature, half man, half serpent in the personification of Death itself.

  Chapter 8: Wohpe

  Shirley had been driving for days; her destination was now close at hand. Devil’s Lake was just a few miles away, and she would try to locate the family of Dan Ghostwolf. The crystal that lay in a box by her side seemed to be growing hotter by the moment. She finally found the small town of Minnewaukan.

  Shirley found a small group of ramshackle houses near Summit Hill. She searched for the address that had been on the box mailed to her from North Dakota. A small trailer park rose up out of nowhere to her left, and the dirt road ended. This was as far as she would be able to go; the rest of her journey would have to be done on foot.

  The lustrous blue sky transformed into deep, sunken amber. The clouds disappeared as they were replaced with heavenly hawks, which soared high in the sky to watch over their traveler. All seemed peaceful, but Shirley had a sense of foreboding; fear started to creep its way into her consciousness. She could feel the hair on the back of her neck rising, and a tingling sensation climbed up her spine.

  She found an old, dilapidated mobile home. The red paint had worn off eons ago, and the front lawn was littered with rusted motorcycles, baby carriages, bicycles, old Tonka trucks, and a mountain of garbage. An old, black dog lay under a small, wild raspberry bush; he didn’t even bother to look up.

  “Hello? Is anyone there?” Shirley asked, her voice just above a whisper. She could feel the crystal growing hotter inside the deerskin and the box that protected the crystal. Walking along a wide path, she stumbled across a broken-down shack that was something of an eyesore. Shirley prepared herself before knocking ever-so-gently upon the front door. No one answered.

  Shirley walked around the shack to the back. There were clothes hanging on a clothesline, but they looked as if they had been hanging there for a very long time. In fact, they were very stiff to the touch, drab-looking, and riddled with holes. Shirley instinctively went to feel them; they must have been hanging there for years.

  “Stop!” came a gruff voice from a clearing among the trees. “Who are you?”

  “I am a … I’m here to find the family …” Shirley was completely taken back by the appearance of a very old, very wrinkled, white-haired man. “I’m looking for anyone who might know Daniel Ghostwolf.”

  Eagle Flying Bye recognized Shirley as the paleface who had visited him on many nocturnal occasions.

  “Dan is my grandson,” Eagle Flying Bye announced. “Why do you look for him?”

  Shirley, a great inspirational speaker by trade, became very still as emotion swept over her features. She tried to regain her composure. A lump formed in her throat. “May I sit down, please?” Shirley asked.

  The medicine man realized that Shirley had news of his grandson. “Certainly, Miss … We have not been introduced …”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Shirley Cohen. I traveled here from New York City, trying to
find someone who knew Dan Ghostwolf and who could clear up a few things for me.”

  “Did my grandson send you here?” queried the great shaman.

  “No. Well, sort of … I mean, maybe. Mr. Ghostwolf, I have some news for you …” Shirley’s voice trailed off …

  “My name is Eagle Flying Bye, but my friends call me Sam.”

  “Well, Sam, there is no easy way to say this, but your grandson’s body was found off Fire Island. Apparently he had drowned.” Shirley’s voice was just above a whisper. “The police told me they could not find any of his relatives, and I had to come here … to find out a few things or clear a few things up. I’m so sorry.”

  Eagle Flying By stared at the young woman for a very long time. “Then this is not why you are here. You didn’t travel all the way from New York to tell me that my grandson is dead.”

  “Well, no,” Shirley confessed. “I … well, this is very strange, but to tell you the truth, your grandson mailed me a package. The return address was here, on Summit Hill, but it was postmarked from New York City. I know this sounds strange, but he mailed me something, and I was just trying to find out why.”

  “I think I know what it is that my grandson sent to you,” Eagle Flying Bye responded. “How do you know that it was my great grandson who had drowned?”

  Shirley spoke very truthfully. “My fiancé went missing over two and a half years ago now, and when the police found Daniel’s body, they found Darren’s wallet on him.”

  “This man Darren—was he your husband?”

  “Yes,” Shirley lied. “He was a paleontologist, and he excavated in the Badlands. He disappeared, and no one ever saw him again.”

  “My grandson told me that he had found a body in a crevice.” Eagle Flying Bye knew that Shirley was being deceptive, but he quietly waited for her response.

  Shirley skipped over any reply or query about Darren. “Your son mailed me a crystal. A stone … well, more than a stone, but I can’t explain this. But it … well, he left me instructions on how to care for it and, well, feed it.” Shirley stared at the medicine man to see his reaction.

  “Daniel informed me that the body of the man he found had been murdered.”

  Shirley stared blankly into the face of the wise elder. “I know.”

  Shirley slowly revealed the box that she had carried protectively at her side. Inside the box, the crystal lay wrapped in deerskin. Shirley had used thick rubber bands to enclose the crystal; she undid the rubber bands and stared at the box. A piece of white quartz lay in it, still hidden from view.

  “Your grandson mailed me this.” Shirley looked confused. “I’m not sure what this is, so I traveled here from New York to shed a little light on the subject.”

  The great shaman sat beside her and told her the most extraordinary tale about the beast that sleeps in the deep crevices of the Badlands. She turned and looked straight in the man’s eyes with utter disbelief and then began to laugh.

  “It is no laughing matter, my young friend,” Eagle Flying Bye reproved her.

  “You don’t really expect me to believe in this monster, do you?” Shirley mused.

  “If you keep that stone, you will believe … and then wish that monsters remained nothing more than a myth,” the medicine man announced. “My grandson was given that crystal, and it took away the lives of his wife, my blessed great grandchildren, and now … him.”

  “Well, then. Let us find out who is telling the truth.”

  Using her left hand, she unhooked the latch, lifting the lid of destiny. The hawks that had soared above in the sky of harmony vanished as quickly as they appeared. The leaves on the nearby trees rustled and then inexplicably fell to the ground, leaving barren and desolate carcasses of wood. The cold wind blew across the land from the south. Within a matter of minutes, the land became void of sound.

  “What happened?” whispered Shirley.

  “By opening the box, you have awakened Uktena, the owner of the Ulun’suti,” the great counselor advised.

  “Who is this … Uktena?”

  “The great serpent you hesitated to believe in.”

  Their eyes scanned the horizon, searching for some paranormal experience. Nothing was worse than having to wait for the inevitable to happen. A single strand of lightning struck the earth a short distance from where the two sat.

  Clouds of dust sprang to life as two enormous wings surfaced. Eyes of pearls stared upon the two who either had had the courage to stay or were just too foolish not to run.

  “Who is the keeper of the transparent crystal?” The question was transmitted mentally.

  Shirley peeked through her clasped hands to see before her a snake of such size and strength that she could only whisper a prayer pleading to leave this godforsaken place. The medicine man looked upon her legs, which trembled with fear, and did the only thing that could possibly be done. A gentle and kind hand caressed her leg as if to give confidence to her inner soul. The medicine man pulled her hands away from her face, gazing into her eyes.

  “It is now time for you to take responsibility for what you have caused to happen, and I will be by your side,” the great warrior promised.

  “I do not think that I am capable of confrontation,” Shirley confessed.

  “Then you should not have awakened the beast that stands before you,” said Eagle Flying Bye, as he caressed his keya, an amulet that hung around his neck and held his umbilical cord.

  Eyes of pearls turned to eyes of ice as Uktena glared upon the inferior beings. The serpent’s tail ferociously swung from side to side, rattling loudly, encompassing the two in clouds of dust so that they could not see anything but what stared back.

  “Who is the caretaker of the stone?” the great serpent demanded.

  Shirley knew that this time was the time to make things right once more, or this serpent would do what came naturally to a beast such as he: feast upon the weak.

  “I am the keeper of the stone,” Shirley announced.

  “Then you must answer correctly this riddle in order to obtain the great knowledge and strength that the crystal bestows on its safekeeper.”

  The great medicine man gave words of encouragement to Shirley and told her that she should listen to her heart and not her mind when she was asked the riddle.

  “Are you ready?” the great serpent hissed.

  “Yes, I am,” Shirley lied.

  “What is the smallest, yet strongest conqueror known to have lived a million lifetimes, and who will continue to live long after you have perished?”

  Oh, no—so many possibilities, but which was the right answer? The puzzled look on Shirley’s face was a bad omen. She stared down at the scales of the serpent and pondered which answer to give as quickly as she could, for she knew she had a limited amount of time.

  She stared at the ground beneath her, hoping that the answer she was about to give would be correct. Standing, she turned to look at the old native, giving him a wink as if to tell him not to worry.

  “I think I have the answer,” Shirley stated.

  Uktena peered down, knowing that the answer she was about to give would more than likely be the wrong one. It was at times such as these that the great serpent would rather tell the individual the answer instead of having to deliver them into the bowels of hell.

  “May the answer you give be free from thought and true of heart,” the great serpent stated.

  “Hunger?” Shirley asked.

  “This is what you give me? You are nothing more than an inferior being with nothing to offer the human race.”

  Her soul cried out, wringing through countless dimensions into trillions of kalpas of time. The medicine man dropped to his knees, weeping for his grandson, his family, and now this woman whom he had promised to protect.

  “You could have left this place unharmed if you had never opened the box to reveal that infernal crystal,” the medicine man said.

  “What is so special about the crystal?” Shirley asked.
>
  “The crystal contains the conqueror of which Uktena spoke.”

  The ghostly apparition of a door suddenly appeared in the back of the shack on Summit Hill. As the bowels of hell beckoned, a kind voice drew Shirley closer to the gates of the dark underworld. The door began to close, and for the first time, Shirley realized what was in the crystal: terror. Terror was the answer that she needed to give, for she was frightened to death. Her heart was filled with the answer: terror.

  The great serpent hissed, its great head in Eagle Flying Bye’s face. “No mere mortal can save her.”

  “Please … Great Eagle Flying Bye … save me!” Shirley’s voice echoed through the caverns, through the Black Hills, through the great expanse to the Badlands, through the redwood forest to the Gulf Stream waters. Her voice could be heard calling, echoing through the Atlantic corridor to the crown of the Statue of Liberty. “Save me, Eagle Flying Bye. Free me … free me …” All of Turtle Island could hear the cries of the woman of the wilderness.

  Eagle Flying Bye, being a great warrior, did not fear, but knew that this was now his battle. The great medicine man stooped down to retrieve the box that carried the crystal. He knew he must prepare for the battle of a thousand lifetimes—but how to win such a battle? He spoke out loud: “Well, there is nothing to fear but fear itself.”

  Sophia begot Barbelo

  once upon a bygone time,

  before the pen of nursery rhymes,

  when water flowed with finite brine,

  Epinoia spewed perfumes divine.

  But there was no nose to smell her vine,

  no tongue to taste her fruits of wine,

  no ear to listen to music chime,

  no eyes to see radiant beauty shine,

  no touch to caress in evening time.

  And as the fountain of all radiance,

  she spewed stardust—the first ether dance.

  Birthed daughter Sophia, Mother’s first romance,

  a mirror of magic in winds of enhance.

  A mother’s child, full-grown one day,

  and taught her love a virgin’s way.

  Together, breathing garden spray

  in radiance of heaven’s play.

  Potential grew from far away,

  came down to earth, and kissed the clay.

  Then the tiller appeared in break of day

  as girls made boys to share and play.

  And as earth crust twisted, formed, and turned,

  molten magna within her burned.

  A ball of butter formed, when churned,

  made cosmic fire explode her ferns.

  The sun shone hot to bake her clay,

  as spinning mass made night and day,

  an atmosphere to soothe the blaze.

  As heavens called, Adameh raised

  to rapture some to paradise above.

  All women’s spirits flew like doves,

  gave every life a taste of love

  as each newborn’s eye spied Mom above.

  Love was the essence of her connection;

  robbers came, taught man insurrection

  and made clay genders with sore infection

  to mine for gold little god defections.

  And stars on high cried, heaving tears

  as gases flamed and terrors seared

  and gods fought earth as man stole gears

  and soured the wine, binding woman in fear.

  And earthquakes rocked; volcanoes blew;

  boiling lava overflowed;

  hurricanes made nightly news;

  tsunami tidal waves crashed through.

  The heavens pulled the earth apart

  as ozone holes exposed hinder parts

  when black oil spilled gusher starts

  made men to die from weak, failed hearts.

  And Mother’s womb took back her chord;

  they didn’t know that she was Lord.

  So all men died of one accord,

  their breath cut off by the Elysium sword.